All Things Being Equal
by Tarma Hartley
Summary: Part three of the story begins. Miles Edgeworth has returned to pick up the pieces of his life with Phoenix but he doesn't want to see him and wants him out of his life. Meanwhile, in the background, a case lingers... M, yaoi, Phoenix & Edgeworth
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first. :) Tarma_

This one has an angsty Phoenix as he tries to come to terms with the fact that he is in love with a man; uncertain about how this man feels about him and wondering whether or not he should come clean with how he feels or keep quiet, he shuts himself off from those who love him most (at first) as he tries to deal with his own anguished emotions on his own...which only makes things worse. He discovers it helps to have someone to confide in as he tries to sort out his muddled feelings. I hope you enjoy this one. Comments are appreciated and welcomed. :)

_Ra_ted M, NC-17 for male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix and Edgeworth

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I lay down on the bed, my mind whirling in circles. I felt hot, I felt cold, I felt giddy, I felt afraid. I wanted so much to be able to tell him what I felt but I found my courage failing me time and again. I would catch his eye and wanted to speak but I couldn't get the words past my clenched lips. I ended up, unkindly though not at all dishonest, looking like an idiot.

'_No more than usual_, I thought dismally, wrapping my arms around the large white pillow, holding it close to my chest. '_Why did I have to fall for him? Of ALL people, why him? You MUST be mad, Wright!'_

I was afraid that I was going mad. Every time I was near him or he was near me, my heart would begin pounding painfully in my chest, my breath caught in my throat and my face would flush.

I'm pretty sure that this caused some raised eyebrows among the people who knew me-embarrassingly so, I thought-I often wondered what he thought. Did he, as I was afraid, think I was an idiot or did he perhaps understand? I sure hoped so.

I groaned loudly as I turned over on the bed, trying to keep back two tears threatening to spill from my eyes. Why did I feel like this, particularly toward HIM? Why HIM, of all people?!

Oh god...what was I going to do? I couldn't avoid him forever...though goodness knows I'd been trying to lately. I knew I would have to face it-and him-sooner or later.

But..when I did..what would happen? I clutched the pillow even more tightly to my chest. I didn't know and that was the worst thing of all. What happened if he...

No. I ruthlessly cut off that train of thought. It was too much to bear.

What was I going to do? I had to tell him...I had to!

You ARE mad., Wright... You have to be...

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Before I begin, I should introduce myself. My name is Phoenix Wright and I am a defense lawyer. I run the Wright & Co. Law Offices with my assistant, Maya Fey, sister of the late Mia Fey, my mentor and friend.

I sure miss the Chief some days but Maya and I have managed to get by since her death. I know she's still looking out for Maya and me from the other side so I am content.

If we need her, I know she's not too far away. Maya is a spiritual medium-though still in training- and can be the conduit for her sister if need be. If we **really** need her, she comes through Maya on her own. Either way, I know we're covered.

As I looked out the window on that rainy morning a couple of years ago, I wished with all my heart that the Chief was there to talk to for I desperately needed her advice.

I sighed wistfully as I stared at the raindrops slowly sliding down the window glass, thinking about him again for the hundredth time that day. This had been going on for four months and I was wondering what it all meant...and why I was feeling the way I did.

What was it about him, I wondered, that attracted me so strongly, that made me weak in the knees when I was near him or melted whenever I heard his voice? I closed my eyes tightly, trying to banish the image of him forming in my mind's eye but it was useless–he came anyway. Unbidden, unaware but not exactly unwanted...and that was what confused me.

This had never happened to me before. I was very confused and uncertain of my feelings or even why I felt the way I did. I had tried, a million times or more it seemed, to understand why I felt this way and I was no nearer to an answer when I finished than when I had started.

I sighed deeply, resting my face on my hand watching the rain fall. There was a crash of thunder that momentarily startled me and a flash of lightning that lit up my dark office. '_Just like in my soul_,' I thought sadly, _I don't know why I'm feeling this way and I have no idea how he feels which is the worst thing of all_.'

There was a void in my heart I couldn't fill with anyone save him and I don't know which thought was troubling me most: pining away for him at a distance or gathering up my courage to tell him how I felt and he rejects me. I felt my heart constrict painfully at the very thought.

I sighed again. _The endless conundrum: too afraid to tell him what I feel and even more afraid of what he would say_.

I squeezed my eyes even harder shut, wishing that this Prince would leave me in peace but no..he chose to stay in my mind and torment me. He is so beautiful..so charming...so exquisite...so...

"NICK!" a voice yelled, cutting through my thoughts and banishing him in an instant. I jumped as I realized that Maya was standing right beside the desk, my face turning beet red in the process.

"AH!" I yelled, jumping out of my chair at least a foot, clutching the side of my desk in trembling hands, "Don't scare me like that, Maya!"

"Sorry, Nick," she said apologetically, looking more closely at my flustered face and shaking hands as I tried to regain my composure, "I didn't realize that you were so deep in thought." She looked at me, concerned. "Are you ok, Nick? You look pretty shaken."

"No..No...I'm...I'm ok, Maya," I replied, my shaking hands straightening my tie and trying to keep my composure which I was rapidly losing, "you just caught me unaware, that's all."

She eyed me critically. "Are you sure? You look like you're expecting a tornado to come through the office any minute."

_She doesn't know how right she is_,' I thought to myself, trying to hide my ever reddening face, '_that's exactly the way I feel_.' I sighed. _'Like a train wreck about to happen_.'

"Nick...why are you sighing like that?"

I gulped. I really had to stop doing that.

"Ummm...no reason.." I stammered as she gave me a piercing look, "I'm...just nervous about the trial tomorrow, that's all." Nice excuse, Wright. You might even believe it.

She nodded in complete understanding. "That makes sense," she said as she tidied up my desk, "it would be enough to make anybody jumpy." She looked at me again, her eyebrow raising. "Are you **SURE **you're ok? You don't look it."

I had to chuckle at that one. She sounded so much like her older sister, Mia, it was amazing. The Chief always told me to relax, to try and enjoy things more when she was here. I looked out the window again, grateful for any excuse **not** to think of him.

"I'm fine," I lied through my teeth, "don't worry so much, Maya." I ruffled her hair playfully. "You worry too much."

"Well...ok..if you say so, Nick," she said not fully convinced. I was hoping mightily that she would get back to whatever she was doing soon because the effort of keeping this fake smile on my face was beginning to become extremely difficult. Not to mention that my face hurt from the effort.

She looked at me for a few moments before she turned and began to do some cleaning, chattering happily as she did so. My smile faded the instant her back was turned and I turned again towards the window. It had been two years since Mia's murder and subsequent trial of Redd White which ended with a guilty verdict and Mr. White receiving the punishment he so richly deserved.

I missed her and even more so today. Who else could I confide in save Mia? Who else would understand? Maya, love her though I did like a sister, probably wouldn't understand and I didn't want her to think badly-or less-of me.

Did she even notice, I wondered as she busied herself in the office, how much like Mia she is? I had to smile at that. Maya, bless her little heart, had done more than anyone to help me and to lift my spirits after Mia's murder which helped me to root out her murderer and bring him to justice. I always wondered if Mia was proud of me not only for that but for keeping Fey Law Offices (now Wright & Co. Law Offices) going under a new name and new management.

I hoped so. It had been a struggle but we had made it through and the office was doing well these days.

'_Mia,' _I thought to myself, '_I wish you were here. I need so much to confide in someone and help me seek direction. Today is the day I miss you the most_.' I pressed my palms and my forehead to the window, grateful that it was cold and hoping that would calm the raging headache that was beginning to form all too painfully at the back of my head.

'_I'm so lost, Mia_,' I thought desperately, '_what do I do? I'm out of my depth here; I don't have anyone I could possibly even open to about this and its tearing me apart inside_.' Hard as I tried, I couldn't keep two tears from rolling down my cheeks which were soon followed by a third, fourth and fifth until a virtual cascade was pouring down my face.

I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to and I didn't even bother to try. I felt my hands clench into fists and my knees turn to water as I cried bitter tears and not caring who heard me. I was only dimly aware of someone calling my name and, as I started to sink to the floor, I felt arms go around me and hold me.

What...who...no...NO! Not Maya...please no..I couldn't bear her hating me, too... I fought to get away from the arms that held me so strongly. Please, no Maya, please let me go! Please!

"Wright!" the commanding voice of Mia Fey cut through my fevered brain, "Wright! Its me, Mia! Stop..Stop!"

With a cry wrenched deep from within my soul, I collapsed in her arms and let her hold me as she stroked my hair, crooning soft words, like a mother to her child. I clutched at her as I wept, deep wracking sobs; she held me through it all and comforted me.

With what seemed like hours later (though it was really only about ten minutes or so), she gently put me from her and sat in the chair beside me, drying my tears with her handkerchief. To say the least, I felt like a complete and total fool, breaking down like that in front of Mia...or was it Maya? No...it was definitely Mia.

"There, there, Wright," she soothed, stroking my hair as she held my head to her chest, "everything will be alright."

She held me for a time and, after the snuffles and sobs had subsided, she gently held me up, looking into my tear-stained face. She smiled at me and I felt a little better.

"What's the matter, Phoenix?" she asked, her concern palpable in her voice, "I've never seen like this before. Can you tell me what is wrong?"

"Chief...I...I...I..." My voice choked once again as fresh sobs burst from me, collapsing once more and crying in her arms. She said nothing but held me, stroking my hair and crooning softly to me like a mother comforting a child would.

When it was all over, I scrubbed at my eyes with my knuckles. I assumed that my nose must have been as big as an apple since I could hardly breathe. And not to mention that I felt like the world's biggest fool.

"Are you alright now, Phoenix?" she said softly.

I looked at her and nodded slowly. "I...think so," I said shakily. "I'll be all right in a minute." I took a few big gulps of air to steady my shaky nerves while Mia waited patiently for me to compose myself.

I took a deep breath and told her everything: what I was feeling, how long I had been feeling it and trying to keep it hidden, for whom I was feeling it and why I was a sobbing mess right now. She listened without comment until I had talked myself out and sat quietly, a soaking handkerchief clutched in my fingers.

She looked kindly at me and only said, "Follow your heart, Phoenix," before giving me a kiss on the cheek and a bright smile. She leaned over to me, gave me a hug and whispered something else before she left.

I chuckled as Maya came back to herself..and immediately began fussing over me when she saw the state I was in. She demanded to know, repeatedly, if I was OK and was I **sure** I'm ok. I had to laugh at the serious expression on her face which did nettle her a little so I quickly soothed over ruffled feathers by accepting her offer to make me a cup of tea.

I drank it slowly, savoring each mouthful, as I sat back and relaxed, my heart lighter than it had been in months. Maya continued to make a fuss over me and, this time, I sat back and let her. I knew that she liked doing things for me now and again; it was simply her way.

And, as you may be wondering about at this point in time, what was it that Mia had whispered in my ear before she left that caused me such amusement?

"Edgeworth? I thought you had better taste than that." A sly wink, a giggle and then: "Go get him, Phoenix!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first.:) Tarma_

Shakespeare wrote: "_Love doth make fools of us all_" and Phoenix is certainly agreeing with that sentiment. It all comes down to the wire here for Phoenix as far as Miles is concerned. After a rather embarrassing encounter earlier that day, Phoenix has a dream that will help him make a choice. I love the dream sequence--four cups of coffee and Peter Schilling's "The Different Story (World of Lust and Crime)" on repeat were a great help. ;) Hope you enjoy this latest segment. As always, comments are welcomed and appreciated. :)

Rated NC-17, M, male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix and Edgeworth

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I waited for Edgeworth to enter the courthouse the next day for the trial and nearly fell over when he walked in.

_My god_, I thought to myself as I watched him walk into the building, _he's beautiful_!

Tall, strongly built, wonderfully graceful hands, finely chiseled features not out of place on a Greek or Roman statue, beautiful dark grey hair with peaked bangs that hung gracefully on both sides of his head with short cropped hair at the back, exquisitely gorgeous grey eyes, a generous, full mouth and purposeful stride.

His tall, solid frame was dressed in a maroon two piece suit with ruffled cravat under which he wore a white shirt and a black vest while smart black shoes completed the outfit perfectly. He was beautiful enough to make anyone's heart melt...and mine was having a serious meltdown at this point just looking at him.

And he was having a devastating effect on my self-control as well. My hands itched to get under his shirt and touch that lovely pale skin of his, to touch every part of him, to kiss... OKAY!!!! I brought my roaming thoughts into strict 'cease and desist' with that last thought and told it to take a long walk. Again, it was not my day for it completely ignored me, despite repeated attempts to get it under some kind of control.

'_Wonderful_,' I muttered to myself, feeling my face getting hotter by the minute, '_again, Phoenix Wright looks like an idiot.' _

I had a bad feeling about this...

"Good Morning, Wright," I heard a rich baritone voice say and I looked up to see Edgeworth standing on the step beside me, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. There was a time not too long ago that I would have been quite happy not to see that particular look on his face.

Not anymore. If anything, it only made him more beautiful and alluring...which really wasn't helping me at all right now.

I had to make a conscious effort to breathe. I thought I heard an aggrieved voice in the back of my mind saying, _'Breathe, Wright. BREATHE_!' It might only have been my imagination although I did manage to gasp out, "Good...Good.. Morning..Edgeworth" (at least I _think_ that's what I said).

He lifted an thin eyebrow. "Are you quite alright, Wright?" he asked. "You look kind of.." He looked at me closely. "Red."

I coughed a few times. No, I did not have to clear my throat. I was stalling.

"I'm..fine," I said quickly, trying not to meet his gaze for I knew very well what would happen if I did. That earned me another raised eyebrow and something about my mental state muttered under his breath as he walked past me into the courthouse. I gave myself a mental kick. Terrific. Just terrific.

Miles Edgeworth is the Prosecutor and a very good one, too. He hates crime with a single-minded passion which surprises even me at times. There have been rumors about him for years, mostly by jealous colleagues, although there were some serious questions raised about him during the DL-6 case.

I must admit that I also had doubts concerning him due to all the gossip at first though this opinion quickly changed. Both Edgeworth and myself then joined forces later in order to bring down Damon Gant, the Chief of Police, during the trial of Lana Skye, the Chief Prosecutor, for the murder of Detective Bruce Goodman. I sighed as I made my way inside, wondering how on earth this was going to play out..and whether or not I should tell him how I felt.

I was, to put it quite bluntly, in love with Miles Edgeworth. And I didn't have a clue how to tell him.

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The trial that day is a blur in my mind but I won despite the fact that I seemed to be a million miles away over in Edgeworth's direction. Which, on the whole, made me feel somewhat better at least after the morning's disasterous meeting of Edgeworth in the lobby of the courthouse.

I noticed him glancing at me from time to time during the trial but, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out if he was marveling at my strategy or felt quite strongly that I was an idiot. Every time I felt his eyes fasten on me, I flushed. I couldn't help it.

Mia had said to follow my heart and I intended to but I didn't know how that was going to happen if I passed out from lack of oxygen every time I was around him. Miles, quite literally, took my breath away. It would have been funny if it wasn't so painful. Or pitiful.

I was relieved when the day had at last come to an end and I could rest in the seclusion of my office. I took off my jacket, draped it on the back of my chair and sank gratefully down onto it with a happy sigh. I leaned back in the chair, my hands folded behind my head. I closed my eyes, letting all the stress of the day just roll off of me.

I let my mind wander freely and, as I slowly drifted off into an exhausted sleep, I began to dream...

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_Its sometime in the autumn, when the leaves turn, the nights grow longer, the days grow colder. I'm standing on the edge of a lake that I remember from childhood, the crystal blue water gently slapping against the shore. I remembered this place very well as it was the place of some of my fondest memories when I was a boy. _

_As I looked around me, I could feel the cold air biting against my skin, the wind ruffling my short dark hair. I felt at peace for some reason and happy to be here. _

_I walked slowly along the shore, hands deep in my black trench-coat pockets, kicking through leaves that have fallen on the riverbank. In the distance, I think I can hear some German Techno music playing somewhere and I unconsciously begin to sway to its addicting beat, doing a little jig on the shoreline. I even find myself softly intoning unknown lyrics as the music begins to take possession of me. _

_Soon, it seemed to overtake me and I began to dance, letting it encompass me, blocking out everything else except the music filling my ears. _

_I found this rather odd (odd because I couldn't dance all that well) but continued to let the music draw me ever deeper into it. I felt like I was being pulled down into something. The leaves swirled around me, doing wild dances of their own, different colors dancing in wavy patterns. I was surrounded by this technicolor vortex that drew me ever deeper inside it and I happily danced on, not a care in the world._

_The music rose to an almost deafening crescendo, the colors enveloping me. Still, I danced on. I spread my arms out wide as I danced, feeling the cool rush of air on my hands, my head thrown back, eyes closed. I felt tendrils of what felt like fog swirling around me and in and out of my spread fingers, with a soft touch that felt so much like a lover's caress I shivered. The soft caresses continued, up and down my body as I shivered in delicious pleasure, a soft moan rising from my throat._

_So lost am I in the dance that I don't at first register that something is taking hold of my hand and that the tendrils have been replaced by solid flesh...and that solid flesh was grasping my hand. I gasped as I opened my eyes to see the beatific face of Edgeworth looking at me, a smile on his lips as he grasped my hand and slowly drew me towards him._

_My lips parted in a silent "O" of surprise as he did so, shivering at the touch of his hand, his face so beautiful in the swirling mist that surrounded us. My knees trembled noticeably as Edgeworth drew me closer to him but he didn't seem to notice-or care, for that matter-and my breath caught in my throat the nearer I came to him. He was as beautiful as a statue and, some might say, just as remote. Right now, he was anything **but **remote as step by shaky step I came ever closer to him._

_He had a gentle look on his face and a sly smile on his lips. Closer and closer I came until I noticed that he was naked from the waist up. I felt myself flushing as I looked at him: his firm, toned chest, pale white skin, hard muscled body with slim legs. I was speechless as he drew me to him, linking his fingers with mine and leaned forward, whispering, "Dance with me, Wright..."_

_His right arm stole around my waist, pressing me hard up against him. I gasped in shock as he did so, his left hand still linked with mine, as he began to sway to the music, his head leaning forward until it rested on my shoulder._

_"Dance with me, Wright," he whispered huskily again, his head rising slowly as his lips gently brushed my neck. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt the soft brush of his lips against my neck and I'm surprised that I didn't send us both sprawling._

_He held me even closer, forcing me to lean against him, so that we didn't go flying into the lake if that was where we both were now. Not that it wasn't pleasurable for it was; to my acute embarrassment, I was becoming quite aroused the longer we danced._

_Edgeworth seemed oblivious to this as he whirled me around to the techno beat, holding me close to his body as we danced together, the music drowning out all other sounds. The only things I was at all aware of was the music, of Edgeworth and how my hunger for him grew as we danced together. Nothing else was here, nothing else mattered. He was here, I was here. And I desperately wanted him._

_His lips gently grazed my neck, nibbling and licking as I trembled in his embrace. My legs felt like water and I would have fallen if he hadn't been holding me upright until I could stand up again._

_"Dance with me, Wright," he whispered as he nibbled my ear and I moaned softly, "dance with me..."_

_But... I AM...I wanted to protest but the words wouldn't come or, rather, couldn't since my throat was so tight it took an effort to keep breathing. I swallowed hard as I felt his teeth gently biting my ear as I leaned against him._

_"Follow my lead, Wright," he whispered again and, slowly, my body began to respond to his invitation. Our bodies began to dance in tandem with each other._

_"That's it," he whispered encouragingly, "That's it. Just let yourself go...don't worry about anything. Just dance with me..."_

_We twirled around together as we danced. I was slowly becoming accustomed to the feeling of his body against mine and it was no longer a shock to feel him rubbing against me. I danced with him, swirling to new heights, soaring higher and higher until I was dizzy. We went higher still and I was conscious of a new feeling, one that was slowly making itself known to my stupefied senses: the feeling of skin on skin..._

_How the hell did he manage to do THAT?!?!_

_I gasped again when I realized that I was naked, like Edgeworth, from the waist up and that lovely sensation was of him caressing my skin softly with his fingertips. I shivered noticeably, gooseflesh rising on my arms; if he was aware of it, he gave no sign and continued his soft caresses. His fingertips slowly traveled up and down my arm and I also noticed that the tempo of the music had changed from a driving techno to a more soft, slow beat. Almost like a love song..._

_Indeed it was once my fuddled senses had taken in this new surprise and Edgeworth's caresses traveled the length of my arm that I felt his fingers slowly disentangle from mine. I panicked for a moment until I realized that both of his arms had wound themselves around me, his fingers slowly traveling up and down my back, feeling my flesh hot against his own. I relaxed considerably._

_I felt him chuckle against my throat as his lips nibbled my skin gently. "Really, Wright," he chided gently, his mouth moving up to linger at my throat and then continue upwards, nibbling the line of my jaw, "I'm not going anywhere.." His eyes glimmered with mischief as his tongue gently outlined my jaw-line, moving up and over my cheek and whispered in my ear, "unless...you want me to..."_

_"No," I managed to croak, "stay with me, Edgeworth..." I gasped as I felt his tongue gently taste the sweat trickle on my skin. "Stay...please...stay...AH!...with...me..."_

_"I will," he whispered gently, "dance with me, Wright.." I felt his arms tighten around me and mine did the same, pressing his body hard against mine. My senses swam with delightful sensations, my head spun around and around in delicious waves of pleasure. I was becoming quite dizzy with the sensations but my soul soared high. I'd dreamed of being in his arms for a very long time and now, at long last, I was..._

_Edgeworth must have heard my thought for he chuckled softly again and my heart melted at the musical sound as I melted into his arms, giving myself up completely to him, allowing him to do whatever he wanted to me, wanting only what he wanted. His wandering mouth now sucked gently at the skin of my neck and I stiffened with the pleasure of it, his tongue gently tracing circles around the base of my throat as it traveled from one side of my neck to the other._

_I closed my eyes and moaned quietly as he did so, trembling with desire. The feelings this Prince raised in me were astounding as Edgeworth's lips nibbled and sucked at my skin. I trembled at the feelings of desire that washed over me like a tsunami._

_I wanted him so badly it hurt; I wanted him to kiss me, to devour me until there was nothing at all left of me, to do what he pleased with me. I was his willing slave and he my Master–I wanted him to do whatever it was that pleased him. I surrendered all I was to his touch, his kiss, to him..._

_I felt his mouth move up slowly to cover mine and muffled a surprised gasp as his tongue drove deeply into my mouth. My eyes shot open momentarily to see Edgeworth's dark grey eyes looking at me; I was amazed at both the passion and desire I saw there. He kissed me for some time and then lifted his lips away from mine and looked at me, almost as if he was waiting for some kind of signal from me. _

_My eyes must have told them all he wanted to know for he smiled, closed his eyes and, when he kissed me again, he quite deliberately deepened the kiss. _

_My hands shook with feeling as he crushed me to him, his mouth sapping every last drop of energy from my body. I felt giddy with desire as he devoured me, taking all of me that he wished. I was drowning in his kiss; I let myself go with it as Edgeworth took me to new heights of passion I never knew existed. _

_After an eternity, or so it seemed, Edgeworth slowly, and **quite** reluctantly, broke our kiss. I whimpered in protest as he did so and lurched toward him but he smiled and put his finger gently on my lips as he stepped back from me, his left hand gently taking my hand in his. He slowly stepped back, motioning to me to follow him. _

_I stumbled a little as I followed his lead but I managed to keep myself upright as I walked slowly toward him. I noticed that he was stepping into what looked like water but I honestly couldn't be sure if it really was. Nothing was what it seemed here.._

_He was waiting for me as I waded into the cool blueness up to my chest. Once more, he pulled me toward him and asked, "Will you dance with me, Wright?" _

_What kind of stupid question was that?! Of course I would!!! Why does he keep asking me that? _

_"Yes," I breathed without hesitation, "yes, Edgeworth, I will dance with you..."_

_He smiled a dazzling smile that lit up his entire face, leaving me awestruck with its intensity. _

_"Then, come to me, Wright," he said, bending his head and brushing my lips with his that stung with promise and sent an electric torrent through my body that left me breathless in its wake. "Come to me without hesitation." He nibbled my neck again and I nearly fainted from the sheer pleasure of it. "Without reservation." He licked my jaw-line from left to right. "Without instigation." He stepped back and I groaned out loud. This was driving me **mad**!!!! Damn you, Edgeworth!_

_I couldn't take it anymore. "YES!!!" I practically yelled, throwing myself into his arms; he held me in a fevered grip again, his mouth smiling with mischief and undisguised passion as he ran his fingers through my hair. "I want you, Miles. Do with me what you want..whatever you please! Just..." I gripped him tightly as he bent his head down toward me again, gently brushing the tip of his nose against mine. "Just...stay...with...me. Always.." _

_I looked up at him, tears in my eyes; he gently wiped them away with a tender gesture and looked down at me, his expression serious though his eyes were inviting. "Never...never leave...me...Miles. Just...stay with me." I swallowed hard. "Please?"_

_"Is this what you really want, Wright?" he asked quietly._

_I nodded. "It is."_

_"No going back?" There was a quiet intensity to his voice that thrilled me._

_I shook my head._

_"No going back."_

_He smiled at me once more as he bent his head and, just before he touched his lips to mine again, he whispered, "I'll stay with you, Wright. Always."_

_Our lips met again in a consuming kiss that rocked my world to its very core._

_It was done. I was his. There was no going back now.._

_Never._

_Not for him..._

_Not for me..._

_Not for us..._

_Ever._

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I came to myself with a loud shout as I shot up out of the chair, breathing hard. I grabbed the edge of my desk in shaky hands, trying to steady myself until I could catch my breath.

It took a few minutes for my racing heart to steady itself and even longer for me to compose myself. It was late evening when I checked my watch and was amazed to discover that I had been asleep for five hours.

I sank back into the chair, covering my eyes with my arm. What did that all mean?

That's a stupid question, Wright. You know damn well what it means.

_You're right_, I thought to myself, _I know exactly what it means_.. Oh, yes. I knew** exactly **what it meant.

There was no going back.

Ever.

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It had all come together and this much I was sure of: if anything was to happen, I would be the one who would have to take that first frightening step. I thought about it all the way home, throughout the evening and even later on into the midnight hours.

How could I get Edgeworth and myself together in the same place? That was the question of the hour indeed and an interesting conundrum. I thought very hard about this, turning over one idea after another in my mind. It took the rest of the evening to formulate and, shortly before I climbed into bed for the night, I had an answer.

I wondered if I would ever get the chance to put the idea into practice but I pushed that thought away with a will. I would have to put everything on the line for this chance and I was willing to do just that.

As I climbed into bed and lay down, I also remembered something else from my dream. It was something that Edgeworth had whispered to me shortly before I woke up. It gave me a glimmer of hope that all would be well in the end.

What was it that he had whispered to me in my dream?

_"I'll stay with you, Wright. Always." _And then: _"I promise."_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first. :)_

Phoenix has formulated a plan to try and get himself and Miles in the same place but, as so often happens in life, things don't go exactly according to plan. In fact, it looks like flaming disaster is only a heartbeat away...

I do apologize for taking so long with this chapter--my Muses went on vacation and didn't tell me--and it was a difficult part of the story to write.

Special thanks to my husband without whose incessant nagging this chapter would not have been written or posted. Thanks, sweetie:)

I hope that you enjoy this latest segment and, as always, comments are appreciated and welcomed. :)

Rated NC-17, M, yaoi, Phoenix and Edgeworth

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Four months later, things were going much the same as always. Miles and I continued our head-butting in court, I continued to grow in confidence as an attorney and my law practice was steadily attracting more business.

Still, I couldn't forget the dream and I found that I was thinking about it more often than not as time went on. It was the first thing I thought of when I woke in the morning and the last thing I thought of before I went to sleep at night.

I was amazed at how much I had grown in patience though I loved Miles as strongly as ever. . Although I did try not to think about it too much, my heart still skipped a beat whenever I saw him. I enjoyed the time I spent in his company, whether in the courtroom or if I happened to run into him downtown somewhere. I was enjoying these precious moments getting to know the real Miles, in so far as anyone could, outside of the courtroom.

I did wonder, though, if that chance I was waiting for would ever materialize but I found that this worried me less and less over time. I pushed it into the back of my mind which wasn't at all difficult to do seeing how busy I had become in the past four months. I just didn't have time to worry about it.

Regardless, there were times that I had to inwardly urge myself to patience, particularly after a hard day when I yearned for someone to come home to instead of a cold and empty apartment. It was on these days that my courage sagged a little and I wondered if it wouldn't be prudent to just to forget the whole thing.

At this point, I would think just how miserable I was at the present and how much I wanted Miles in my life. I would then square my shoulders and keep going. It was tough some days to simply put one foot in front of the other but I gritted my teeth and did so. Miles Edgeworth mattered to me and I was willing to do what it took to have him. I kept my eyes and options open, as it were, as I waited.

And life went on much the same as it always had.

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I'm sure that you are familiar with the old saying "Nothing ever goes as planned." While I did have an idea about how to get Miles and myself in the same place at the same time, the way in which these events worked themselves out made it crystal clear that it wasn't going to go exactly the way I had envisioned it. Life can be funny that way.

It was in December, in the midst of a snowstorm, that events took their course and, no, I **hadn't** planned on that particular thing happening. It was as much a surprise to me as it would be to Miles.

That December 20, both Edgeworth and I were scheduled to attend a conference for both Prosecuting and Defense Attorneys in the next city over for the weekend. Neither of us wanted to go, really, but there was no way around it. Being specifically asked to attend, we had no other choice but to go which I knew would annoy Edgeworth immensely.

However, the logistics of it did present a problem: I didn't have a driver's license which meant that I couldn't drive up there on my own. Which, in turn, meant that I had to go with Edgeworth who, predictably, grumbled about it all the way there.

I couldn't help but chuckle at that for it was so like him but, deep down, I knew that he really didn't mind overly much. We had been friends long enough that I recognized his moods fairly well and I knew that this was just his way of letting off steam. He really _didn't_ want to go and neither did I but, since we had no choice in the matter, we went.

I admit that I was a little annoyed about having to go but I thought it might do me some good to get out once in awhile; I was starting to get cabin fever, in the middle of December, no less.

In that respect, I was looking forward to it. That and having Edgeworth accompanying me was perfect, as far as I was concerned, and I looked forward to time with my traveling companion as well. It would be much better than a hastily grabbed cup of coffee at a local coffee house.

He had changed considerably since the DL-6 case and it was definitely for the better, in my opinion. I only hoped that one day he would be free of the ghosts that still continued to plague him.

After this sobering thought, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and felt the corners of my mouth tug into a shy smile. He was one of the most handsome men I have ever seen and I felt my heart begin to race. At least now, I didn't flush so much and forget to breathe.

It was amazing that this man had such power over me but I really shouldn't have been **too** surprised. I was deeply in love with him, after all, and people in love very often do foolish things. I couldn't help but let my mouth twitch into a secret little smile. He noticed in an instant.

"What on earth are you grinning about, Wright?" he asked testily, an edge to his voice. I winced inwardly. Apparently His Majesty was not in a very good mood today. At least not at the present.

I chuckled. "Nothing," I replied, a silly smile plastered on my face.

"I fail to see what is so amusing," he grouched, as he bent lower over the steering wheel, "it isn't like I wanted to come up here let alone be forced to play chauffeur to a no-account spiky-haired Defense Attorney."

I sighed. "Edgeworth," I said patiently, "I didn't want to come, either. If it was left up to me, I'd be at home sleeping. We didn't have much choice in the matter so let's try and make the best of it, shall we?" I looked at him, a grin on my face which hid-I hoped-how hard my heart was beating. "Maybe we'll surprise ourselves and enjoy it."

"I highly doubt that," he said sourly, making a face at me. I chuckled and shook my head. He looked even more sour. I started to laugh. He refused to speak to me for the rest of the trip up to the city. I didn't mind overly much since I had other things on my mind and a little silence wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Besides, I was seated comfortably next to Miles and I was happy to be so.

I then settled in to enjoy the trip, watching the scenery as we drove by and letting my thoughts drift into more pleasant areas as I enjoyed nature's matinee spread out in front of me.

XXXXXX

"Well that was entertaining," I remarked wearily as Edgeworth and I walked out of the Conference Room late Saturday night into the biting chill of the cold winter evening, "I've never had so much fun watching paint dry before. I must do it again sometime."

I was being _very_ sarcastic, a sentiment that Edgeworth certainly echoed. Both of us had been bored silly.

"It was a monumental waste of time," he retorted, "I would have much preferred to be at work. I would have gotten more out of it."

"For once, I'm in perfect agreement with you, Miles, " I replied, walking with him over to his car and opened the door. Edgeworth opened the driver's side and got in, slamming the car door shut, his mouth pressed into a tight line.

I knew that look. It meant that Edgeworth was in a really sour mood. I leaned back in the seat and sat quietly. I knew better not to push him any further when he had that look on his face.

We sat in silence for some time before Edgeworth spoke. "Is there any place you'd like to go to while we're here?" he asked. I was a little surprised since I would have thought that he would have been eager to get back to the city as soon as he could.

Still, now that he mentioned it, I thought that this might the perfect opportunity to put my idea in motion. There was one place near here that I knew very well from my childhood and it had figured prominently in my dream four months earlier.

I nodded. "Yes. Do you remember my family's summer cottage near the lake?"

He nodded, a small smile playing about his lips. "I remember it very well."

"I'd like to go there for awhile if you don't mind." I shivered. "We're not likely to make it back tonight anyway and it is getting colder. I'm sure that my folks have someone who takes care of the place in the winter so it should be all right."

He sighed as he put the key in the ignition but made no comment as the car roared into life. He backed up and turned the car around, turning out of the parking lot and onto the main street. We drove for a half hour on the main highway, took a left at the intersection and, three miles down the road, came to a fork.

Miles turned right and we traveled for some time until we came upon a dirt road that lead through a small but thick copse of trees to a large though faded a white cottage on the edge of the lake, surrounded by a weather-beaten white picket fence.

I smiled as he drove closer. I remembered this place well as one of my favorite places to go in the summer. Edgeworth had accompanied us a few times the summers we had vacationed here when we were boys in the carefree days before the case that tore his world-and very nearly his soul-apart occurred with the murder of his father.

I had to change the direction of my thinking and quickly; judging by the look on Edgeworth's face and the flash of pain in his eyes, he needed distracting as well. I wondered what was troubling him as I grabbed our suitcases and walked quickly up the stone path leading to the cottage, Edgeworth following close behind me. I walked up the steps, taking a good look around as I did so. All was as I had remembered it.

I placed the suitcases down on the porch and reached into my trench-coat pocket, pulling out the cottage key and quickly unlocked the door. I could hear Edgeworth fretting beside me and I really couldn't blame him: it was cold and getting dark so the quicker we got inside, the happier we would both be. With this firmly in mind, I opened the door quickly and, with Edgeworth bringing in our suitcases, walked inside.

I shut the door behind me, turned on the light switch by the door and looked around the spacious foyer. Nothing had changed from all those years ago and I was quite pleased with that as I removed my trench-coat and hung it up on one of the coat pegs next to the door.

_It's always nice when one is able to connect with childhood places that still look the same as you remember them_, I thought, _it's like I'm coming home all over again_.

Edgeworth had already hung up his coat and was wandering around the foyer so I decided I would take a look around. I hadn't been here for quite some time and I was eager to see the old place again. I roamed about the kitchen for a bit and then walked into the living-room, smiling happily. I had some of my best childhood memories here and it was with nostalgic fondness that I recalled them.

I walked over to the old stone fireplace in the far wall and, as I leaned my elbow on the mantel shelf, I recalled the many happy, carefree days I had spent here with my family and Miles. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, almost like it was in another world.

Looking down by my feet, I saw that there was a cord of cut wood in the large wood box next to the fireplace which was definitely good since it was quite cold out and a nice fire would be just the thing we needed to warm both ourselves and the cottage itself.

I looked about for some newspaper, hoping that the paper box had something in it. Luck was with me–there were plenty of sheets of newsprint I could use. I knelt down and took a few sheets, crumpling them up into balls and laying them down on the floor next to me. I then took some pieces of wood and stacked them carefully in the fireplace, tucking the paper balls in the various open spaces in the wood stack.

I stood up and looked at the mantel. If memory served, there should be a box of matches next to the candles. I hunted a bit for them and finally found them next to the vase at the far end. I opened the box, took a few out (just in case), and knelt once more, striking one of the matches as I did so.

The first sparked and then fizzled as did the second and third. The fourth burst forth into brilliant life, burning brightly as I leaned forward, putting the match to various newspaper balls at random places in the stack. I blew out the match and tossed it into the stack.

It didn't take long for the paper to catch and, while it did take a little bit more time for the wood to start burning, I soon had a nice fire going. I smiled as I closed the metal fire screen and rubbed my cold hands together. The welcome heat from the fire felt wonderful and certainly took the edge off the cold.

I wondered where Miles had gotten to so I stood up and walked back into the foyer. I glanced into the room to see Edgeworth staring up at the ceiling, a half smile on his face and I wondered what was going through his mind as I stood there watching him.

Unfortunately, at that moment I seemed to be intruding on a very private memory for he turned slowly to look at me, an eyebrow raised. He didn't look happy.

"What are you staring at, Wright?" he asked, his voice cold and distant.

"You," I replied and winked, trying to keep my tone light but, inwardly, my heart was sinking in the general direction of my feet. Maybe coming here was a mistake . . .

All my old insecurities were coming back with a vengeance.

_If I had known this was the way he would react, I wouldn't have bothered_...

He rolled his eyes. "Very funny," he snapped and, with that, turned on his heel and stalked into the living-room, leaving me standing alone in the foyer.

I sighed and rolled my eyes behind his retreating back.

"I saw that, Wright!" he bellowed from the other room. "And I am NOT amused!"

I flushed. '_I'd forgotten that he's got eyes in the back of his head_. _Damn it, things were going fairly well until now..'_

"Wright!"

'._..And he's cranky to boot_.' I grimaced, rubbing my eyes. '_Lovely_. _What **else **is going to go wrong_?'

I soon had an answer to my question.

"**WRIGHT**!"

That did it. What tenuous hold I had on my temper was now gone. If Miles had wanted to make me angry, he succeeded admirably.

"I'm coming!" I hollered back, trying to keep a tight lid on my anger and not having much success. "Just give me a minute!"

_If it's a fight you want, Miles, a fight is what you'll get._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so as not to confuse those who have read that story first. :)_

It's a showdown between Phoenix and Miles..and it isn't pretty. Ugly things are said and it looks like this could pretty much be the end of anything between the two. Or is it? And a third player is now added to the mix at this point: an unwanted, unsolicited and throughly unwelcome one from Phoenix's point of view.

Originally, this was the really long chapter 3 (12-13 pages) but I felt that was a bit too long so I cut it into two. What is interesting is that this chapter is 1-1/2 pages longer than the first one I wrote. Funny how things work out, isn't it:) A little more drama and all will be resolved.

Special thanks to my husband for his encouragement and incessant nagging. Thanks sweetie:) Thanks also to SK for catching something I missed. A big thank you to all who have read my stories and have reviewed them. I really appreciate it very much! I'm glad that they are being enjoyed. :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this latest segment and, as always, comments are appreciated and welcomed. :)

Rated NC-17, M, male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix and Edgeworth

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I walked into the doorway of the living room, my mouth set in a grim line, my hands balled into angry fists. I was feeling a lot more put out than I cared to admit to myself. Or anyone else. I knew that something was upsetting him but he didn't have to take it out on me.

I was tired and I was afraid. I was also fed up and spoiling for a fight. I should have known better than to open my mouth and, given what happened next, I wish I hadn't.

Without giving him an opportunity to say anything, I spat out, "Who the hell do you think you are?!" His eyes narrowed in surprise and his mouth snapped shut after the first verbal volley. Whatever it was that he had been going to say was cut off with that first outburst of temper.

"I am sick to death of being your whipping post, Miles," I went on, anger raging through me, "and I'm sorry that you aren't feeling all that well but guess what? Neither am I!" I threw him a nasty glance. "I didn't want to come here any more than you did but at least I was willing to take a chance which is more than I can say for you, Mr. Big-Shot Prosecutor!"

I noticed that Miles' face was slowly turning red, a sure sign that he was getting angry. His eyes narrowed even more until he was looking at me through little evil slits, his mouth twisting into an ugly snarl. I took no notice of this as my mouth ran away with me, unloading all the frustration, anger and hurt I was feeling in a raging tide.

"What's your major problem anyway, Miles?" I continued, my face twisting into the caricature of a smile, "it isn't like you're the only one with problems! I have them, too, but I don't let it bother me to the extent that you do!"

It was here that I should have kept my mouth shut but, true to form, when I lost my temper I also lost all ability to think clearly. Miles' mouth worked but he made no sound as he turned away from me.

"At least I'm willing to face my demons instead of either running away from them or letting them control me!" I saw his hands clench into fists and I knew that I was on very shaky ground; if there was anything calculated to make Miles angry, this was it.

At this point in time, I really didn't care. I'd had enough. Truth be told, I didn't appreciate being anyone's personal whipping boy. I had enough of_ that_ given out by some of the people I defended and mostly by those I was cross-examining. And, recalling Miles' earlier commentary, why did they always _insist_ on insulting my hair? I suppose if you want to insult someone, you go for the jugular.

I looked at his back, my voice dripping with scorn as I struck the low blow. "What? Think you're too good for the rest of us? Think you're above all of us _fallible_ mortals, Miles? You're nothing more than a coward!"

Miles' head snapped up at that last sentence and whirled around to face me. His eyes were full of pain.

"H-How. . . _dare. ._you!" Edgeworth managed to get past clenched teeth, taking two halting steps toward me, his eyes flashing grey sparks. "How dare you . . . of all people . . . _you_ have **NO** right to judge _me_!" He took more steps toward me, his face twisted in anger. "You damnable, self-righteous, spikey-haired Defense Attorney!"

I involuntarily took two steps backward as he lurched toward me, my eyes widening in surprise. I swallowed hard, hoping that I hadn't pushed him too far but having the sinking feeling that I had. '_Oh..damn..I think I might have finally done it.._'

"You have NO right to judge me!" he continued, his mouth twisting in pain and anger, "_you_ didn't have to go through what I did. _You_ didn't lose your father to a murderous mentor who then took you under his wing, gloating all the while." His voice cracked, a harsh cawing sound emerging from his throat. "My god! That. . . that. . . _man_. . . let me think I'd killed my own father! My..own...father!!!" That last sentence had come out as a strangled sob. My heart broke within me as my anger drained away, leaving me feeling ashamed and awkward. I opened my mouth to say something-anything!-but he pushed past me, grabbed his coat from the coat peg and went outside, slamming the door behind him.

It was that slamming door that I felt echoing inside and I felt my heart constrict painfully within me. I walked blindly back into the foyer, punching the wall as I passed. DAMN IT! Why was this happening?! Why was it all going so wrong?

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Miles came in after what seemed like hours later, opening the door without a word. I stood a little off to the left side of the foyer, unable to say anything as I watched him walk past me without a single glance, heading back into the living room.

My pain-filled eyes watched him; I had been doing some thinking while he was outside and I had come to the conclusion that I was wrong. I regretted my outburst more than I could say but perhaps it was now too late to say anything.

I took that as just punishment though I ached inside. I didn't mean all of what I had flung at him in anger and wished with all my heart that I could take it back.

Miles was right–I had no right to judge him but I wished that he would trust me enough to open up to me. I knew that he was hurting and I longed to help but he kept shutting me out. That accounted for some of my frustration though the rest was easy to figure out.

I sighed as I slowly turned to walk into the living room, my heart heavy with every step. I didn't think there was any way that I could repair the damage I had done but I had to try, for my own peace of mind. I couldn't leave things like this. I only hoped that he would be able to forgive me and that I would be able to forgive myself.

I stopped beside the door jamb of the door leading to the living room, unable to go any further. I felt sick and couldn't force my feet to take another step. I looked up and saw him sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, staring silently into the dancing flames, his face pale in the flickering firelight.

"Miles?"

No response. He continued to stare into the flames.

I waited for a few minutes before I spoke again, clearing my throat. He didn't move.

"Miles? I'm . . . I'm. . .sorry." All of my feelings came out in a rush. "I. . . .didn't mean what I said." _At least..not all of it and certainly not the ugly things. I just wish you'd trust me, Miles_..

I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears I felt welling up in them. "I was wrong. You didn't deserve that . . . and I'm sorry."

He lifted his head and slowly turned to face me and my heart broke within me. He looked so lost that I had to bite hard on my lower lip to keep from crying out. He looked at me for a few minutes before he spoke.

"Are you?" he asked, an edge to his voice, his eyes hooded in that predatory look I knew so well.

This wasn't good. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I noticed the warring emotions playing out on his face; I held my breath, wondering what to say next or if I should say anything at all. I didn't want to get myself in any deeper trouble than I already was in.

For many long minutes, he sat in silence. When he finally spoke again, he said quietly, "I...accept your apology." I let out the breath I had been holding, feeling relief wash over me like a tidal wave.

_'Thank goodness it's over,'_ I thought to myself, feeling the quaking in my legs start to subside and the ache in my heart slowly going away, '_now_ _we can move on.._' I knew Miles' word was good; if he said something, you knew he meant it.

"Thank you, Miles," I said softly, my eyes shining, "thank you." I looked at him, my expression one of heartfelt relief though I was shaking like a leaf inside. '_One disaster narrowly averted_..' I could also see that something else was weighing heavily on his mind but I waited a few moments before I spoke, giving my emotions time to calm and settle themselves. I wanted to be as calm as possible before I asked him what it was that was bothering him.

After a few moments of silence, I spoke.

"What's eating you, Miles? You've been in a mood ever since we arrived here and before that you weren't very happy to begin with. Not that I am, either," I continued as I straightened up and walked slowly over to him, "I couldn't blame you for being miserable. The conference was awful, the presenter was obviously a blowhard who would do von Karma proud in terms of pure verbosity and it was more fun looking at the ceiling mentally playing connect the dots on the spackle."

I put my hands on his shoulders, turned him toward me and made him look at me. He did, though unwillingly. I had to fight the urge to take him into my arms and my heart began beating faster. I tried very hard to ignore that, too. I looked into his eyes; they were deeply troubled. _'So I was right_,' I thought, _'something really is wrong_.' Damn. '_And I more than likely made things worse by bringing him here_.' Double damn.

I gave myself a swift mental kick_. 'Wright, you're an idiot_!'

It was at this point that a small but irritating voice decided to put its two cents in.

_**We already knew that.**_

_SHUT IT!_ I angrily shot back, in no mood to be polite.

_**Shutting.**_

"I'm not your enemy, Miles," I said quietly, "I'm here to help you. I **want** to help you." I smiled at him which seemed to relax him. "Come on over here," I said, leading him over to the couch, where I sat and bid him to do likewise, steadfastly ignoring that annoying voice in the back of my head. I put my arm around his shoulders once he had settled himself beside me.

He twitched just the slightest bit when I put my arm around his shoulders but he didn't try to pull away. That was a good sign. "Now tell me what's bothering you."

Which he did. At length. For six hours. I don't know which of us was more exhausted after he had talked himself out: Miles, for having to dredge up one painful memory after another that he had desperately wanted to forget or me, emotionally drained and physically exhausted, at the end of it.

'_Poor Edgeworth_,' I thought sadly, looking at him, so vulnerable, his grey eyes so full of pain that my heart ached for him, '_no one should have to carry a burden like the one you've carried all these years_ . . ._and they shouldn't have to do it alone_ . . . '

I truly did feel sorry for him. It was a terribly heavy burden he had to carry on those shoulders and he had carried it mostly alone for 15 years. He leaned against me, physically and emotionally exhausted, while I held tightly onto him, trying to support him as much as I could. It was the least I could do for him though I wished with all my heart that I could do more. And that I dared . . .

We sat in silence for some time, watching the flames dance in the fireplace, each thinking our own private thoughts. I was happy just sitting with him like this, holding him close. When he spoke again, after some time had passed, I could hear the weariness in his voice.

"Thank you, Wright," he said simply. "I'm . . . glad . . . that you were here. Thank you."

I smiled as I absentmindedly stroked his hair. Curiously, he didn't object; he sighed and moved closer to me. This was certainly a surprise but a welcome one. "You're welcome, Miles." I resisted an unbearable urge to kiss his head. "Are you all right now?"

Or, perhaps, the question should have been, "_will you be all right now that you've shared part of the burden you've been carrying all these years?"_ I knew what kind of courage it took for Miles to bare his soul like this and how difficult it had been for him to do so.

I couldn't even begin to fathom just how hard it would have been for him, having to bear the burden of suppressing those terrible memories of the murder of his father, Gregory, under such iron-like control that, on the surface, these memories didn't seem to bother him but those who knew him knew very well that they still haunted him in his nightmares.

It was then that I realized just _how_ much pain he really was in. '_My poor Miles_ . . . '

He nodded,. "I...seem to be."

"Good." I meant it. Every word.

After a few moments more of companionable silence, I happened to glance at the old clock on the mantel shelf above the stone fireplace and I was startled to see that it was 2:00 A.M. I hadn't realized that it was this late. Too late to do anything other than to go to bed and head out for home in the morning.

"Well," I said, standing up and helping him to his feet, Edgeworth leaning on me for support, "I think its time we went to bed. You're exhausted and in no shape to go anywhere. Come on."

I led him from the living-room to the upstairs and walked up one careful step at a time, holding him close so he wouldn't stumble. "Let's get you into bed."

He looked at me rather curiously at that remark and I flushed a bright red. I hadn't meant it to sound quite **that** way . . .

**_Yes you did_ ** said that annoying voice in my head, smugly.

_No I didn't_! I thought back, flushing hotly.

_**YES you DID**_

_No I did NOT_!

_**Did**_

_Didn't_

_**DID**_

_DIDN'T_

_**Liar**_

I gritted my teeth._ Don't you have some other person to bother besides me? _

_**No. You're more fun to bother, anyway**_

_Go away_

_**No**_

Damn worse half.

"What was that you said, Wright?" Edgeworth asked me. I gulped and blushed. I hadn't realized that the argument currently going on in my head I was repeating out loud.

"Nothing," I said quickly, quickening my pace a little.

"Why is your face all red?"

"Never mind." I really didn't want to have _this_ particular discussion right now. Or at a later time. Or ever. To say the least, I was very embarrassed.

Something that should be written in every Defense Attorney's handbook (to my knowledge, there isn't such a thing but there should be) would be this, placed under the heading of **'Never trust a Prosecuting Attorney':** **_Even when he's emotionally and physically exhausted, he'll still manage to find your weakness and zero in for the kill_**.' Which he did. And I managed to _just_ fend him off. It did remind me of our courtroom battles, come to think of it.

I reached my old bedroom in record time, practically dragging Edgeworth along behind me who was doing his level best to try to keep up with me without falling on his face. I had no desire to field any more questions, thoughts or even long thought out conversations at this point. I simply wanted to get him into bed--

_**With you**_. Just when you thought that irritating voice in the back of your mind couldn't get any more annoying . . .

_WILL YOU just GO AWAY ALREADY_?!?!

_**Admit it. You're hot for the Prosecutor.**_

_I will admit NO such thing!_

_**Doesn't matter. You know its true.**_

_No it ISN'T._

_**Yes it IS.**_

_NO IT ISN'T_!

_**Yes it is.**_

The worst part of it was that the voice in my head was right.

_**Told you.**_

Damn smug worse half.

--and make sure he got some rest. That and my hands itched to . . . I quickly cut that train of thought short. I wasn't sure how long I could hold out and I didn't think it was fair to take advantage of both a physically and emotionally exhausted Prosecutor. The resulting conflict within me was becoming unbearable.

_**Ah. At last you admit it**!_

_Go away!_

--especially when he's just come through a six-hour emotional roller coaster, talking, crying and laying bare his soul.

_**Poor baby.**_

_Get lost._

I sighed as I helped Edgeworth onto the bed and covered him with a quilt after he had laid down. Leaving him completely clothed. I didn't want to tempt Fate by undressing him.

"Goodnight, Edgeworth" I whispered tenderly.

"Goodnight, Wright," he replied. "Thank you for everything."

I smiled gently. "Anytime, Miles. You'd have done the same for me."

He chuckled. "I would have, I'll admit."

"Sleep well."

"You, too."

I lay down on the bed a few feet away from the larger one he was sleeping in. I laid my head wearily down on the pillow and closed my eyes with a deep sigh, pulling the comforter over me, snuggling down into the mattress like I used to do when I was a boy.

It had been a long, exhausting evening and the only thing I really wanted right now was a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. In case Miles needed me, I wanted to make sure I would be awake enough to be of help to him.

Unfortunately, as I discovered to my chagrin, that very annoying and irritating voice wasn't _quite_ finished with me yet.

_**I know what you're thinking.**_

I_ don't care. I'm too tired to argue._

_**You're no fun.**_

_Good. Now maybe you'll leave me alone._

_**Spoilsport**_. The voice actually sounded disgusted as it faded away.

I smirked as I settled down under the comforter. _Touche._

I looked forward to a restful night.

..Or so I thought.

Unbeknownst to either of us at the time, events were about to take an unexpected turn, quite violently so.

It all began with a nightmare.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This fic is not connected with "All's Fair In Love And War" so as to avoid confusion with those who might have read that story first. :)_

Events come to a head for Miles and Phoenix when Miles has a nightmare of his past and Phoenix is there to see him through. It's make or break: will Phoenix tell Miles how he feels about him or will he stay quiet? Miles seems to be receptive but Phoenix is haunted by uncertainty, still wondering in the secret recesses of his heart if he is making a big mistake. Something happens that will change things between the two men...

Sorry this has taken so long...trying to find the right emotional balance that I was happy with wasn't easy. I'm also working on two more Phoenix & Edgeworth stories so that might also account for why I've had so much trouble writing this chapter. I can't get my mind to sit still long enough on one story! ;D Chapter 6 is almost complete so it shouldn't take me too long to get that one finished and posted. :)

A HUGE thank you to all of you who have read and reviewed my stories–I appreciate it more than I can say! I'm also very grateful for your patience–Chapter 5 has been another difficult one to write mainly since it seems to be taking off into a hundred different directions at once. :) I may have to tie my Muses to chairs to get them to stay in one place long enough for me to finish a chapter without this much trouble!. ;)

Special thanks to my husband for his unfailing encouragement, support and, once again, incessant nagging. Thanks, sweetie:)

I hope you enjoy this latest segment and, as always, comments and reviews are welcomed and very much appreciated. :)

Rated NC-17, M, Yaoi, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth

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I was woken from a deep sleep by a blood-curdling scream a few hours later that sounded, for all intents and purposes, like someone was being murdered. I sat upright at that piercing scream and vaulted myself out of bed, my heart pounding so hard the only sounds I could hear were that awful screaming and the blood pounding in my ears.

Once I had shaken the last cobwebs of sleep from my brain and understood that I was standing in the doorway of my old bedroom in my family's summer cottage, I started to think a little more clearly. Feeling a slight ache near the back of my head, I also belatedly realized that my head had made contact with the oak headboard when I had leapt out of bed, brushing by it on the way up.

I winced as I gingerly put my hand on my head and felt the beginnings of a lump. '_Lovely_.' I scrunched my eyes shut and gritted my teeth; through that pain-filled haze, I could still hear that awful screaming coming out from the darkness and realized that it was coming from..._Edgeworth's_ bed?!?!

THAT ended all sleepiness completely. I was wide awake in an instant, the pain forgotten.

_'Oh, god, what's happening?!' _I thought as I raced over to see what was the matter. I saw Edgeworth screaming and writhing around on the bed, in the throes of a terrible nightmare. The quilt was twisted in his fingers and he had somehow managed to partially get tangled up in the bed sheets under him, babbling incoherently before another scream was torn from him.

I caught snippets of conversation in the silent stretches in between those awful cries: phrases like "No..don't hurt my father!" "Dad!" "Someone help us!", "Stay away from my father!" and realized, to my horror, that he was reliving his father's death all those years ago. He was reliving DL-6!

"Miles!" I yelled frantically, throwing myself onto the bed and trying to contain that squirming mass of humanity reliving one of the darkest moments from his past, "Miles! Wake up! Wake up!"

I managed to shake him once before he slithered out of my hands and fell back onto the bed in a mass of writhing limbs and tangled bed sheets. "Damn it, Miles! WAKE UP!!!!"

I tried to grab hold of him once again but he twisted and writhed out of my grasp, his flailing fist crashing into my face as he desperately tried to throw me off the bed. I groaned in pain as his fist made contact with my left cheek, fighting hard to keep my balance. I still managed to hold onto him and disentangle him from the sheets in the process which, considering the circumstances, was a miracle in itself.

'_What do I do now?_!' I thought despairingly, trying to keep my balance and hold on to Miles at the same time, ignoring the pain coursing through the left side of my face. '_I can't leave him or he may hurt himself but I can't wake him up_. _Gods, what am I going to do?'_

Eevn as I asked myself this question, I already knew the answer. There was only one thing I could see doing at this point and it was simply to stay with him and see him through until I could get him to wake up which, I desperately hoped as I tried to keep my balance, would be soon. I was his only lifeline now and he needed me.

I gritted my teeth as I once more grasped his shoulders firmly in my hands and held on. The next half hour was pure hell for me, listening to him screaming, reliving those awful memories and I could do nothing except to hang on and pray it didn't get any worse. Thankfully, it didn't, but it left me feeling drained both physically and emotionally when I at last managed to wake him up.

His grey eyes were wide and frightened; he seemed scarcely able to comprehend where he was or that he was only having a nightmare, that it really wasn't happening. His hands grabbed the inside of my arms and held on for dear life, shaking fingers digging into my arms. I tried not to wince too much. '_Damn, he's got a grip_.'

I gave him a gentle shake as I looked into his tear-stained face, his lips trembling, swallowing hard as he gulped in deep breaths, little mewling noises emerging from his throat, a frightened stare in his eyes.

Seeing that vacant, horrified look made me shudder inwardly as I wondered exactly _what_ it was that he had seen and experienced. Even as that thought formed itself in my mind, I was certain that I didn't want to know the answer to that particular question.

"It's all right, Miles," I soothed as he looked around with terrified, unseeing eyes, his mouth opening and closing though no words came out, his body shaking with terror, "it's all right. It was only a dream, nothing more than that. You're here with me; you're safe. No one will hurt you, I promise. It's all right."

He stared almost incomprehensibly at me, his eyes blank and, as of yet, unseeing. It took some time for him to stop shivering; his eyes had a haunted look in them. I felt my heart constrict painfully within me.

I hated seeing him in this much pain and there was nothing I could do to help him. And it didn't help that I felt helpless and frustrated in light of the situation.

His eyelids fluttered and my attention was rapidly brought back to him; for a moment, I thought that he was going to faint but, with a hoarse cry, he began to sob and fell into my arms, clinging to me like a frightened child.

I sat up wearily, slowly and gently lifting Miles up into a sitting position beside me as I sat back against the headboard. My arms closed around him protectively as I held him close to me as he cried, gasping for breath in-between heartbroken sobs. He was trembling so badly his teeth rattled.

_'What is going through your mind, Miles?'_ I wondered as I leaned against him, my chin resting on the top of his head, giving him what I had and hoping it would be enough, stroking his hair with my hand and murmuring soft words of comfort.

_'What is it that is torturing you so?_ _What happened in that elevator all those years ago wasn't your fault. You had nothing to do with it. It was all the doing of Manfred von Karma...and** you** are not **he**, no matter what anyone else might say.' _

I kissed his head gently, my eyes narrowing a little as this thought popped into my mind. '_Manfred_ _von Karma has much to answer for, my poor love, for everything he did to you_.' And I wished that I could have made him pay in full for it. As it was, Justice itself had the final word so at least I did have some satisfaction knowing that I had played a part in von Karma's downfall. That wretched man deserved everything that came to him.

I sighed as I looked out the window, watching the snow drift quietly past the window and down to the ground out of my line of vision. I watched in appreciative silence for some time, admiring it's beauty and very grateful for the momentary distraction_. 'They say no two snowflakes are alike. It's really amazing when you think about it. How many infinite possibilities are there?' _

My thoughts ran along these lines for some time as I held Miles close, running my fingers gently through his hair. I smiled as he settled himself more comfortably beside me, his head pressed against my chest.

How often had I dreamed of this moment? Too many times over the past while to count; I found myself wishing that this could be happening under vastly different circumstances than the ones we faced now.

I hadn't had the chance to tell him how I felt and, given the circumstances, I didn't feel that it was the proper time to divulge my feelings in this area.

'_Nothing ever goes as planned, they say_,' I thought, shifting my weight a little to the right and distributing Miles' dead weight in a more comfortable position near my hip, '_how true that is proving to be, particularly in my case. Nothing has gone the way I had envisioned and I don't know whether to laugh or cry.' _

It seemed a mean-spirited thought on the whole, particularly when I looked down at the exhausted man lying in my arms. I chided myself mentally for the lapseand tried to divert my thoughts into more pleasant areas.With a half smile, I lost myself in these daydreams, holding tightly to my beloved

How I wished I could tell him just how much I loved, respected and admired him. I had a feeling that he probably already knew that I held him in high esteem as a Prosecuting Attorney–our courtroom battles certainly proved that–but I'm sure that he would appreciate me telling him.

It was a very interesting relationship Miles and I had, which was putting it quite mildly to say the least. While we were on opposite sides of the courtroom, we had the same basic desire to see Justice done.

'_I shouldn't really be referring to Miles like that. My Beloved.' _I sighed.'_Too many things have gone wrong already for me to have ANY illusions about plans._' I made a face. '_Or putting those plans into action forthwith.'_

Even if things didn't go well later on (though I hoped with all my heart that it would), I could always hold these memories close in my heart. Maybe it would help to somewhat expiate the pain certain to follow.

'_I'll find out soon enough_.'

It wasn't a comforting thought.

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Miles stirred, waking me from a light doze. He slowly moved back just a little so that he could shift his head and looked at me; his eyes were red-rimmed from all the tears he'd shed and he looked so tired and lost that I ached for him. I would have given anything to take his pain away and it hurt me deeply seeing him like this.

Without thinking, my hand reached up and cupped the left side of his face. His surprised intake of breath startled me back into reality; my face flushing a bright crimson, I snatched my hand away as if it had been burned. What the hell was I thinking?!

I stammered out an apology but, curiously, after I had done so he looked...disappointed...for some reason. My eyebrow furrowed just the slightest bit. What was going on here?

'_Odd_.' I tried not to make a big deal out of it as I chalked that up to wishful thinking and not because there was any reason-or proof- to believe otherwise. Still, I wondered...

"Are you all right, Miles?" I asked, trying to get my scattered thoughts and emotions under some kind of control by concentrating on the present. It didn't really help all that much since my feelings were rocketing skyward at a rapid pace, with or without my consent.

He nodded slowly, his grey eyes firmly fixed on mine. "I..think so.." That enigmatic gaze was starting to put a real strain on my self-control and I tried to look away but I couldn't tear myself away from those beautiful grey eyes. My mouth felt dry, my heart beginning to beat faster.

'_Damn it, Miles_,' I thought to myself, beads of sweat starting to stand out on my forehead, '_do you know what you're doing to me?!'_

Of course he didn't. How could he? My thoughts were whirling in a chaotic tangle and I struggled to avoid being swept up in the whirlwind following it. This was becoming more and more difficult to do–I wanted to go with it but I dared not.

_**You're being incredibly dense, Wright. More so than usual.**_

I chose to ignore that.

Miles was in no shape to deal with a long drawn out confession and I wasn't in any shape to tell him anything of substance.

**_You're hopeless_**. **_Completely hopeless_**.

I ignored that, too.

What it all boiled down to was this: what was I going to do? I couldn't keep this up for much longer. Sooner or later, something was going to give and it was up to me to decide which way it was going to go: I could tell Miles how I felt and then deal with whatever resulted from that or I could go on the way I was and have the whole thing blow up in my face. Not, on the whole, very attractive options though the first was considerably better compared to the second.

**_What's it going to be, Wright_**?

I didn't know. That was the worst part. Everything within me screamed to run away but the more logical half said that to tell Miles honestly how I felt was the best thing to do.

The ensuing battle within was fierce, neither side giving any quarter. I groaned inwardly, wishing these voices in my head would leave me alone.

**_What's it going to be?_** the question came again, more insistent this time. **_You need to make a choice. What is it going to be?_**

_'I...don't..know.' _It sounded lame, even to me. I did not want to deal with this right now but, as it appeared, I wasn't about to be given a choice in the matter.

**_You do know. You know what you have to do._** **_You're the only one who can make that decision...or not, as you choose. Which will it be? Which can you live with? Either way, it all comes down to you. Remember this: whatever decision you make, you will have to live with it. Choose wisely._** With that final admonition, it faded away.

All this was going through my head with lightning speed, Miles' eyes still locked with mine. I trembled noticeably but those eyes did not look away or break contact; they bored deep into my soul.

"Wright?" Miles asked, his eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you all right?"

I swallowed hardand nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My tongue ran over my dry lips in an attempt to moisten them and I tried very hard to control the trembling in my limbs. All the while those grey eyes held mine captive; I had the feeling he knew what was going on in my mind..and why I was stalling. It was rather disconcerting, to say the least.

"I..I'm..all right," I said after a few moment's silence, my arms tightening around Miles, "I..I'll be..fine. Just give me a few minutes."

'_A few hours, more like,_' I thought introspectively. '_If there's anything more difficult than dealing with affairs of the heart, I don't know what that might be._ _I don't want to deal with this now..I really don't. Not now.'_

**_Then when? When it's too late? When the moment has come and gone? What will you do then? _**The voice was relentless**_. Spend the rest of your life regretting what might have been? What kind of way is that to live, Wright? Is that what you really want–a lifetime of regrets? _**

I sighed. '_No. I don't want that. What I want is...' _My thoughts broke off at that point.

_**What? What is it you really want? Or, would it be more correct to ask not what you want, but whom? Do you want regrets...or do you want Miles Edgeworth? Which will it be? **_

I closed my eyes, wishing with all of my being that this would be over knowing, all the while, that Miles was watching my every move. That only made things worse. What must he be thinking about now?

**_Do you even know yourself what it is that you truly want? _**This game of twenty questions was really getting on my nerves but that damned voice was right: did I really know what it was that I truly wanted? I thought on this for a little, Miles' curious but penetrating gaze never leaving my face for an instant.

A few moments later, like a bolt from the blue, I had my answer.

_'I know what I want.' _There was no hesitation.

_**Do you now? And what might that be? **_

The moment of truth had arrived.

_'I want Miles Edgeworth,' _I thought firmly, surprising myself at just how firm-and final-my response seemed to be. '_I want Miles Edgeworth...and no other_.'

_**And what do you plan to do about it? Are you going to tell him how you feel or will you run away?**_

I shook my head, earning me another puzzled look from Miles.

_'I will not run away_,' I thought back calmly, '_the time for running has passed. Now is the time for truth.'_

The voice was silent for a moment and, when it spoke again, it was with approval.

**_Good luck, Wright. To both of you. _**And then it was gone.

I looked into Miles' face, creased with concern and confusion. I smiled a little at that.

'_I wonder what he thinks of someone who has a pushy conscience?' _I knew what other people might think but I did wonder what Miles thought. He was the only person who's opinion on that subject really mattered, when all was said and done.

"Wright?" Miles began again tentatively, his eyebrow raising. "Are you..." He flushed a little.

"I'm all right," I said quietly, turning him a little more so that his face was only inches away from mine, "in fact..I'm better now than I have been in a long time."

Miles' mouth opened in a silent "O" of surprise though he remained where he was and made no attempt to move. My hand lifted slowly to touch the side of his face, my blue eyes calm and collected as my fingers gently traced patterns on his skin.

I couldn't believe how calm I was as I continued my soft caresses; his breath caught as his grey eyes once more seized on mine, their enigmatic stare searing through me like liquid fire. It was now...or never.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at Miles, my fingers now slowly sliding up the side of his face, stroking his skin tenderly until my hand gently cupped the side of his face. I could feel him trembling beneath my soft touch but, whether from surprise, genuine desire or something else I couldn't say.

"Miles," I began softly, "I have something I need to tell you.."

"What is it, Wright?" he replied, his voice husky, with an emotion I couldn't exactly quite place.

"Miles, I–" I stopped, cursing myself, feeling my newly-found courage slowly slipping away. Damn it! Not now!

"What is it?" Miles had leaned in closer to me; I could feel his soft breath on my cheek and he had a very curious look on his face but I couldn't quite place what it was. I couldn't tell if he was surprised, intrigued or both.

I was so nervous my heart was hammering in my chest with such force that I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, a red mist dancing in front of my eyes. No! There would be no turning back now!

"I...I...love...you, Miles," I said softly, "I love you.."

Before I completely lost my courage, I leaned in, cradling the side of his face tenderly and pressed my mouth hard against his. He gave a small gasp as I did so but I held him firmly, my fingers sliding into his hair and to the back of his head, pressing his mouth harder against mine.

The die was now cast.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: This fic is not connected with "All's Fair In Love And War" so as not to confuse those who may have read that story first. :)_

This is it. Phoenix puts everything on the line with his kiss and now the ultimate question will be resolved: will Miles also profess his love for Phoenix or will he break Phoenix's heart? The stakes have never been higher...

This chapter is a bit of a long one so I do apologize in advance for the length. There's a lot of things to get through and then, of course, there's the love scene. :) I've re-written this chapter five times so I'm hoping that the end result will be enjoyed by all. :) There will be a wait on the next chapter since, at this point, I don't have a firm direction as of yet; too many ideas and nothing at all solid at the present. How long that will be, I don't know, but I will do my best to shorten the wait as much as I can.

Special thanks to my husband for his continuing support and encouragement. Thanks, Sweetie. :)

Thank you again, one and all! I appreciate your patience and I appreciate all who have read this story & reviewed it. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter as well. As always, comments and reviews are welcomed and appreciated. :)

Rated NC-17, M, male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix & Edgeworth

[EDIT August 17, 2010: I more or less rewrote this chapter when I posted it to dA so I am posting that version here as I feel it is far better than the original. Hope you enjoy! :^) ]  
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Have you ever had a time when you do something so completely out of character for you that it leaves you wondering just _what_ the heck you were thinking?

That kiss had come almost completely out of the blue and I was as surprised as Miles when I leaned over and kissed him. God, his mouth tasted so sweet! It was pure magic.

"I love you, Miles," I whispered on his lips before I pressed mine hard against his once more, "I love you..." The kiss seemed to last forever and, when I gently pulled my lips from his, I found his eyes, surprised as they were, looking at me with quiet intensity. And something else...

I didn't have much time to think about it since Miles hurriedly recaptured my lips in a kiss that left my heart beating madly in my chest, his mouth moving sweetly under mine, his trembling hands pulling me closer to him with a hunger that was unmistakable as it was dazzling. I joyfully lost myself in his arms and his fiery, all encompassing kiss...

In the midst of enjoying this passionate embrace, my mind was screaming at me, "**What the hell are you doing, Wright? Cease and desist! Stop, you damned fool!**" I confess that I blithely ignored its repeated-and increasingly shrill-warnings; I only wanted more of Miles' deliciously sensuous kisses and the feeling of his sweet body pressed against mine.

I'm not exactly certain _what_ it was that broke the spell we had woven around ourselves but, in the blink of an eye, both of us had flown apart, our eyes wide with shock. My breath was coming hard in ragged gasps and my entire body was trembling while Miles looked even more pale than usual as he stared at me in horrified silence, his shaking hand pressed hard against his mouth.

_Oh, my God!_ I thought miserably to myself, my heart plummeting as I looked at Miles' frightened and white face. _What have I done?  
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We sat staring at each other for some time in silence, unable to fully comprehend what we had just done. It was about this time that I decided that Fate _really_ hated me since nothing in this whole production had gone right and now I sat facing the possibility that I had ruined everything by those somewhat desperate, though immensely pleasurable and wonderful, kisses.

Questions pummeled my mind in quick, staccato bursts. Had I played my hand too quickly? Was I taking unfair advantage of him like this? And, worse yet, had I let my emotions get the better of me and ruined any chance at all with him? This last question troubled me the most though the second also gave me pause for uncomfortable thought.

I was really beginning to wish I'd scuttled the whole thing in the first place; had I known the sheer number of disasters that were to occur, I'd have just thrown the idea out the window and not looked back. At least then I wouldn't have had to go through all this constant aggravation, uncertainty and heartache which, all things being equal, was starting to both annoy and fill me with anxiety.

_All things being equal_, I thought, biting my lip, consternation filling me. _Where have I heard _that _before? And where did_ that _come from?_

I didn't have much time to dwell on it so I let it pass without another thought. Later on, it would haunt my every waking hour for the next three years.

Back in the present...

_But, if I had, I wouldn't be here with Miles now and shared such a wonderful embrace with him_, I thought to myself, my brow furrowing slightly as Miles' eyebrow rose in response, _and, curiously enough, he hasn't been exactly..._ unreceptive... _to the idea. If he_ had, _he would have put an end to it long before now. I have_ no _doubt about that!_

I also recalled that, when I had held him close after the aftermath of his nightmare, he _hadn't_ pushed me away but had snuggled close to me. If he _hadn't_ wanted to on some level, consciously or not, he _wouldn't_ have gotten that close in the first place, _would_ he? And that look in his eyes... Surely, what I saw there couldn't be a mistake, _could_ it?

That gave me even more things to mull over. Could it be...? At least it gave me some much needed hope that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out all right despite everything that had gone awry up until this point.

_Hopefully._

Miles broke the uncomfortable silence first.

"I seem to be beholden to you once more, Wright," he said, sighing somewhat resignedly, his voice tinged with a hint of chagrin that this should be so. "I am once again in your debt."

I looked at him with considerable surprise. _That_ wasn't _what_ I had been expecting him to say!

"What?" I asked, shaking my head in confusion. "How... what... who..?"

_Lovely. Now I'm starting to sound like a broken record._ I winced which earned me another raised eyebrow from Miles. _Or an owl._ At this point in time, I didn't know which was worse.

"I... am in your debt, Wright," he said again, a blush rising in his pale cheeks, his hand reaching up to shakily to touch my cheek before he placed it on my chest. "Thank you for being there for me."

My heart sank as I heard those words echo within my heart. _Miles... no...! It_ isn't _a burden or a debt that needs to be repaid! Damn it, Miles, I love you!_

I waited for a few minutes for the emotional storm inside me to pass before I shook my head.

"No, Miles," I said quietly, "you aren't."

He looked at me curiously.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He had a very peculiar look on his face and I couldn't _quite_ place what it was. I couldn't tell if he was intrigued, surprised or both.

"I was happy to be here for you, Miles," I said, drawing him close to me and tilting his head up to look into mine, my hands tenderly cupping his face, my thumbs gently stroking his skin. "You... don't... owe... me... anything."

I leaned in for another kiss... and stopped, my hands starting to shake. _My God, Wright... what are you doing?_

"Wright..." he started to say but I cut him off.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Miles," I said hoarsely, the lump in my throat so large it threatened to choke me, my fingers beginning to tremble. "I... I didn't plan on it to happen. Not this way."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force back the tears I could feel welling up in my eyes. I felt sick with shame and only hoped that I hadn't ruined everything since I'd already had one close call and I didn't want to risk a second.

"Wright . . . " he started to say but I cut him off again, apologizing profusely. I heard him snort as I took a breath to continue my self-castigation and, when I looked at him once again with some chagrin, I noticed him giving me a disgusted look.

"Do you mind?" he said, a slight edge to his voice.

I flushed with embarrassment, swallowing hard. "Sorry."

"As I've been trying to say before you keep interrupting me, Wright," he began again, raising his eyebrow, his voice trembling slightly but with purpose, "is to stop being a thickheaded idiot and kiss me."

I stared at him, my jaw dropping. I _couldn't_ believe my ears! Was this all a dream or was this really happening? Did he say what I thought he just did?

"WHAT?" I was stunned into momentary silence and added, after I had recovered from the surprise, "Are you serious?"

"I... I ... am," he said, moving closer to me, his face still cradled in my hands, his eyes locked on mine with an intense gaze. "I... I.. _need_ you, Wright... I _need_ you, like I've never needed anyone else."

My eyes widened in considerable surprise.

_Did he know what he was saying?_ I wished I could be sure.

I licked my dry lips nervously. "Miles..."

His hands slowly covered mine and held them tightly in a vise-like grip that trembled but was surprisingly gentle, his eyes gazing yearningly at me.

_Could this be...? Could he... possibly...?_ My heart started hammering in my chest and I felt hope rise in me that maybe, just maybe, everything would work out in the end. I could always cling to that.

"Miles," I said softly, looking deeply into those enigmatic grey eyes, my heart literally in my throat as I spoke, "I love you. I've loved you for a very long time." I tenderly brushed away a tear that had slipped from his eye and was slowly falling down his face with my thumb. I could feel my resolve weakening and I hurried on before I completely lost my courage. "I... _want_ to be with you but...-" I hesitated for a moment and then continued.- "I... I... have _no_ idea how you feel..." I flushed as the last sentence came out in a nervous stutter, my lips quivering.

I could feel my face getting hot but I pressed on. This needed to be settled, once and for all.

"I need to know, Miles. How do you..." I stopped, swallowing hard before blurting out, "how... how... do you feel... about... _me_?" It was all out there on the table now; the ball was in his court and I had no idea how this was going to resolve itself. I did hope for a happy ending, to be sure, but I couldn't count on that and that worried me. Had I wasted my breath for nothing in the end? Would Miles reject me or accept me? I didn't know and that was weighing heavily on me as we sat there in the deafening stillness.

Miles was silent for many heart-rendering moments and my breath caught in my throat. I didn't really want to know but, for my own sake, I needed to. I needed to know where I stood, if anywhere at all.

_It couldn't possibly be good if he's taking this long to reply_, I thought bleakly, my heart sinking. _I hope I don't end up regretting this, but, as the old saying goes_, nothing ventured, nothing gained. _And I need to know where I stand._

"Phoenix, I–" Miles began but stopped, swallowing hard. My hands trembled slightly on the sides of his face, my nervousness very plain to see.

"This... this is very hard for me to say," Miles admitted, sighing loudly and I couldn't help but agree with that assessment. It was hard for both of us, I knew, and I felt it very keenly as my heart, at this point in time, was literally in my throat, wondering what it was that he was trying so hard to tell me and not really wanting to know.

I was trying, but not really succeeding on any level, not to panic but I could feel fear beginning to rise in me; I could all but feel its steely fingers closing around my throat and squeezing.

"Yes," I said in a choked voice, "I... I can imagine it would be..."

_Damn it, Miles!_ I thought wretchedly, my mouth twisted into an unhappy grimace, _this is killing me! I_ can't _take the unbearable suspense any more! Just spit it out and get it over with!_

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling tears welling up behind my closed eyelids. Oh God, I hoped I wouldn't break down and cry since that was the _last_ thing I wanted to do and something I was trying very hard to avoid. Everything around me was lost in the panic that was quickly rising within me; I was unaware of my surroundings and conscious only of my rapidly beating heart that seemed to echo painfully with every beat in the silent room.

_I... can't do this...!_ I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, a soft moan emerging from my throat. _I'm sorry, Miles... I... just..._ can't...!

I was so lost in my own misery that I didn't hear Miles talking to me as my hands slowly slid from his face, falling bonelessly into my lap. I started in surprise a few moments later when I felt his fingers slide over my cheek to my jaw, grasping it firmly and turning my head to look at him. Before I had a chance to say a word, his mouth possessed mine in a kiss so deep that it left me breathless. I felt his other arm go around me as he held me close to him.

When we parted some time later, I stared at him in shock, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Miles..." I started again but he interrupted me, his eager lips cutting off anything I was trying to say.

He stared at me, his need all too clear in his grey eyes, reflecting a hunger that I also shared.

"I... I... _need_ you, Phoenix. Please... Stay with me..." Miles said softly, his fingers trembling on my cheek, moving his lips over my cheek to my ear, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. " I... I... love you, Wright. Don't... leave me. Please!"

Shades of the dream I had four months earlier except it was _me_ asking _Miles_ to stay.

Once these words had fully registered in my consciousness, my heart soared. The _last_ thing I had ever hoped to hear him say he had now said and in a manner that was unmistakably clear. Miles Edgeworth loved me!

"I won't, Miles," I said slowly bringing my mouth close to his once again, my spirit soaring as I pulled him close, "I won't ever leave you." And, just before our lips met again, I breathed, "I promise." When our mouths met, it was pure heaven. All I had ever wanted was now mine.

I felt his tongue gently graze the outside of my lips and I opened my mouth; it slid inside, joining with mine in a whirling dance that left me dizzy with desire. I deepened it, drawing him even closer to me and slowly sinking down onto the bed with Miles following to lie beside me.

My left hand slowly moved from the side of his face to run down his neck and shoulders, caressing him as it moved down to his back. I felt him start for a moment and then relax, his own hungry hand skimming over my shoulders and then slid down my back, sending delicious shivers up and down my spine.

I felt him chuckle. When we parted briefly to take a breath, he said mischievously, his voice hoarse with desire, "you _like_ that, don't you, Wright?"

I smiled as I nibbled his bottom lip, mischief sparkling in my own eyes as well.

"Oh, I do indeed, my dear Prosecutor," I whispered saucily, feeling deliciously naughty referring to him like that. My hands curved around his back and slid forward until my fingers brushed the bottom of his vest. He moaned quietly as my mouth slid down to settle at the top of his cravat. "And I _fully_ intend to make _good_ use of this knowledge."

He shivered as my mouth sucked gently at his sweaty skin that was exposed above the top of his cravat, tasting its salty sweetness. "Mmm... do you now, Wright?" he teased, arching his back in pleasure, his hand coming up behind my head to press my mouth closer to his throat. "And _what_ exactly do you intend to do, my dear Defense Attorney?"

"Wait and see," I whispered back, my tongue running lazily over his skin and nibbling gently with my teeth, working his cravat slowly loose until it fell away with a soft whisper and laid bare his entire neck. I proceeded to lick and nibble all the way down and around his neck, paying particular attention to the base of his throat.

"Oh... Wright... Wright! That... ahhhhhh!... feels so good!" Edgeworth moaned throatily, twisting in pleasure, his head thrown back in obvious enjoyment. "That's it... Oh God, yes!"

My fingers gently traced patterns on his skin as they slowly undid the buttons on his vest and then set to work on unbuttoning his shirt. I heard a sharp intake of breath as my hands slid underneath, touching his pale, creamy skin, and he quivered as I slowly pushed the sides of his shirt apart, opening his bare chest completely to me. Once I had this accomplished, I slowly worked my licking and nibbling down his neck and to his chest, marveling at his beautiful skin.

"My God, Edgeworth," I whispered huskily, my hands gently touching him with both tenderness and awe. "You're beautiful." My fingers ran up and down his skin softly, like they were playing a finely tuned instrument and I was the Maestro.

I licked his nipple tenderly and was pleased to see it stiffen right away; even more pleasurable were his moans which told me that he was enjoying it. "You are even more beautiful than I could have imagined." I licked the other one until it was standing as stiffly and proudly as the other.

"Oh, Phoenix... Phoenix!" Edgeworth was crazy with desire and my slow caresses and kisses were adding even more fuel to the already raging fire. "My body... it... it feels _so_ hot!"

"Miles!" I groaned, licking down his chest and stomach, flicking my tongue over his sensitive skin with teasing, darting licks, "I want you so much!"

I lifted him up into a sitting position so I could slowly slide his shirt off of his shoulders, pressing hot kisses against his hot skin before I started working my way back up again. I pressed fiery kisses against his mouth, neck and throat and I could feel his hands roaming freely over my back, his mouth eagerly, and wantonly, devouring mine.

"I want you, too, Phoenix," he moaned, his breath coming out in hissing gasps of pleasure, his eyes glazed with hot, burning desire. "Take me..."

I didn't waste another moment. I enjoyed the taste of him, his pure maleness... all of him. His body was a delightful feast and I was taking full advantage of the delicious dish in front of me. As I did so, he was crying out and I was glad that he was enjoying my ministrations as well... and that it was I who was giving him pleasure.

I felt him undoing the buttons on my jacket rather hurriedly and I chuckled as I helped him. He practically ripped it off of me and threw it on the floor which was followed shortly by both my tie and shirt. Once divested, he grabbed me in a rough embrace, hungrily devouring my mouth, his hands caressing every inch of my bare chest and back.

I moaned under his scorching hot kisses and held him even closer, letting him do as he wished. He sucked hard at my neck and I cried out with the pleasure of it, enjoying the feel of his hard body against my own.

"Miles..." I whispered huskily as his hungry mouth traveled over my neck, my fingers running through his sweat-soaked hair. "Oh, Miles... my Prince..."

"Phoenix... Oh, Phoenix," he murmured back in between kisses, his lips eagerly and hungrily devouring mine. "My Phoenix..."

We fell back slowly onto the bed, still locked in a smoldering embrace. As we continued to kiss and caress each other, I couldn't help but love the way he felt so right in my arms; I marveled at how wonderful it felt to have his lips enjoying our passionate kisses and aware of just how much I wanted to be with him, to pleasure him, to love him.

My mind was whirling but Miles' mouth, pressing hot and sweet kisses on my own, brought me back to pleasant reality. I was hard with arousal and ready for him; he continued to plunge his tongue deeply into my mouth, stabbing it deeper with every thrust, wrenching deep moans from within me.

I was well aware of a new sensation flowing throughout my body and then I realized that he was now on top of me, rubbing himself against me. I could feel his excitement in every powerful downward thrust.

"Wright," he moaned against my mouth, his mouth hot and wet. I moaned in response as our bodies threshed together, my breath coming out in quick, ragged pants.

"Miles," I managed to gasp out while our lips briefly parted. "Will you... AHHH!" His mouth nibbled along my chin as my back arched in unbelievable pleasure. _Oh, God... that feels_ so _good!_

"Will I... will... I... what, Phoenix?" he gasped back, rocking his body even harder against mine. My hips jerked upwards to meet his downward thrusts, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through my body as his mouth once more claimed my own in a passionate, searing embrace. I cried out against his mouth, my tongue dancing with his.

"Will you... will... AH!... will you... dance with me?" The question was torn from me with a surge of passion so intense I thought that I would faint from the sheer joy of it.

He ground himself even harder against me, his own muffled moans burning hot against my mouth.

"Ohhh, yesssss, Phoenix," he hissed out between clenched teeth as he rode me harder, lifting his head with his eyes tightly shut, his teeth gritted in pleasure, "I will... I... _will_... dance... with you!"

I could feel him through the fabric of my trousers that, for some reason, we hadn't taken off in our mad desire to devour the other. He looked down at me for a moment, his eyes blazing with a need that was all too clearly echoed in my own, my breath coming in ragged pants as my glazed, lust filled eyes stared at him. He hurriedly captured my lips with his own, groaning loudly with unquenchable desire as he kissed me hard, his mouth possessing mine with a hunger that I had once could only have dream of and now was blissful reality!

I arched my back, crying out in pure, unadulterated joy. Miles tore his mouth away from mine to press searing kisses on my skin before he lay his head on my shoulder, continuing to ride me as he did so, his mouth biting and sucking my skin hard.

My fingers dug into the skin of his back, holding him hard against me as we moved together. My senses swam, drawing me deep into a vortex of unparalleled pleasure, words tumbling from my lips.

I drove myself against him even harder than I had previously, crying out in mindless joy as Miles thrust himself equally hard against me. Oh God, how I wanted him and this dance between us to go on forever! He was crying out in mindless ecstasy as we rode together, his body rocking against mine with a passion I had only seen in the courtroom, whispering my name in between ravenous kisses that left me breathless.

Miles began to slow his pace at that moment and I groaned in protest against his hot mouth as I tried to thrust up against him. He gently pulled back, holding me tantalizingly close to the edge that I longed to go over while I groaned in protest at his withholding it from me.

"Oh, God, Miles, no... not now! **NOT... NOW**!" I groaned again before his lips nibbled my own. I opened my mouth to protest once again but he pressed his searching lips hard against mine, stifling whatever it had been I was going to say.

Miles showered my face, eyes and throat with hot kisses while his deft fingers were slowly unbuttoning the buttons of my trousers. I shivered as I felt his fingers gently brush my skin and worked to undo the buttons on his, running my fingers slowly over his hard body, hungering for his touch. My body was as taut as a harp string and every touch of Miles' soft fingers were enough to send shock waves of pleasure and desire crashing through me.

We managed to somehow slip them over our hips where they landed in a heap of fabric on the floor, along with our respective underwear. At last, I felt the rub of skin on skin and my hands explored Miles' nude body with wonder mixed with a little awe, running my hands slowly up and down his sides, delighting in him and how good his bare skin felt under my questing hands.

Miles' lips once more settled in at the base of my throat and I moaned as he gently nibbled my skin; I felt his hands exploring my body with the same intimate tenderness that I was exploring his. It was pure rapture feeling his hands skimming lightly over my skin and I wanted more of the sensation.

I slid my hands slowly up his arms, reveling in the feeling of him, the feeling of sweat-slicked soft skin on skin, until I tenderly cupped the sides of his face; I lifted his head up and brought his lips to meet mine once more, devouring his lips in a hard, draining kiss that left us both trembling and short of breath.

I looked deeply into Miles' eyes when we parted, my breath catching in wonder at the intense look of desire I saw in reflected in those burning, grey orbs. I turned over onto my side with Miles sliding down to lie beside me, pressing himself up against me. I kissed him again, drawing him ever closer to me, my hands exploring every inch of him I could reach.

We rolled over on the bed, our lips still locked together, until Miles was lying half on and half off of me. I could feel his hand running through my hair while the other caressed my body tenderly though somewhat teasingly; I moaned at the overpowering sensation of pleasure that swept through my body at his touch.

He gently pulled back, our lips slowly parting. He looked at me for a brief moment until he dipped his head and licked my neck once more while I moaned.

His lips softly nibbled and kissed wherever his hands had explored; my body arched and bucked in pleasure, half-muffled words and sentences falling from my mouth in quick succession in between cries and moans of exquisite delight. He was in control... and I let him take it.

He gently turned me over until I was lying on my stomach, nibbling gently at the nape of my neck. I shivered as he did so, trembling with need. I mewled softly when he lay on top of my back and groaned as I felt his hardness press into the cleft of my bottom.

His teeth nipped at my skin and I groaned again, bringing me quickly back to reality and shivering in anticipation. His hands slowly traveled up and down my sides, teasing me with soft caresses until my body was literally on fire with an aching, desperate need.

He chuckled quietly as he felt me agitate underneath him, groaning at the pleasure that flowed through his body. His head dropped down to my shoulder, his lips tantalizingly grazing my skin before he bit down, sucking at my skin hard. I cried out in mingled surprise and pain that quickly turned into guilty, dirty pleasure. That feels so good...

I didn't know how much more teasing I could take, whimpering loudly as Miles teased me even further with caresses and kisses. His tongue outlined the shell of my ear, nibbling the lobe while I whimpered in pleasure, straining hard to feel more of him. God, he felt so damned good rubbing against me like that!

His fingers gently crept into my mouth and I sucked hard on them, licking and nibbling. Miles groaned softly and leaned hard against my back.

"Please," I whispered plaintively as he continued his gentle attentions, his fingers slowly slipping from my mouth. "Please, Miles... I want you so badly!"

"Soon," he whispered hoarsely into my ear, his hands sliding up my arms and covering my hands with his own, his fingers linking with mine. "Just a little longer, Phoenix. Just a little longer, I promise..." He nibbled my neck and I shivered in delight. "I want to enjoy exploring you a little more first..."

He nibbled my ear once again, liquid fire flowing through my veins at his touch. I felt him grind himself against me, his weight pressing me down onto the mattress. I felt his fingers unlink from mine, traveling slowly across the back of my hands, over my arms and shoulders and down my back.

I started to panic but Miles soothed me with soft words and caresses, relaxing once again when I felt his gentle touch and shivered as pleasure once more flowed hotly through me in continuous waves. I groaned at the sensation.

He knelt upon the bed behind me and lifted me as well until I knelt in front of him, my back pressed against his chest. Trembling noticeably, I leaned back against him, swallowing hard, my breathing ragged. Miles held me close against him, murmuring words of love into my ear, caressing my chest gently with his fingertips.

"It's all right, Phoenix," he whispered softly, gently licking the side of my neck, one arm holding me close to his hard body while the other one explored me freely while garbled half words and phrases poured from my mouth. "Don't worry about anything. Just relax and let yourself go..."

I shook in his arms, moaning with rapturous joy at his caresses. My head lolled on his shoulder, my eyes closed, moaning crazily as I felt his hot mouth nibbling and sucking on my neck. I let myself go, basking in the hot pleasure that flowed through me, my eyelids fluttering madly.

I felt his right hand slowly traveling down my body and nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt him wrap his fingers around my throbbing erection and slowly began to caress me. I gasped and shook but he held me firmly; I was surprised that I didn't explode right then and there, the pleasure flowing through me was so overwhelmingly intense.

Miles was well aware of this and chuckled evilly against my ear, continuing his hot caresses but holding back just enough so as to not allow me to climax too soon. I was reduced to a state where I was literally screaming myself hoarse for him to take me, writhing and bucking in his grasp, my hips thrusting outwards. I could hear myself begging and pleading for him to stop teasing me and take me now, damn it! I couldn't take it anymore!

He let go of me and gently leaned against me, licking a stray bead of sweat that was coursing its way down the side of my face as his right hand traveled back up my body, pressing against my stomach.

I shivered and moaned as he did so, my body feeling on the verge of exploding from the hot arousal that flowed through it. I could feel Miles' hardness throbbing against me and I knew that he was just as excited as I was and that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

"Are you ready, Phoenix?" he whispered hoarsely, holding me tightly against him once more.

I swallowed hard. "Yes," I whispered back, my voice trembling with equal amounts of excitement and trepidation. "I'm... I'm... _ready_!" The last word was wrenched with a loud groan from deep within me.

I grimaced as he gently pushed me forward until my hands were lying flat on the bed, my body arching against his, hot, painful pleasure racing through my sensitive body. I was on fire and I longed for more.

"Do you love me, Phoenix?" Miles' voice was strangely intense and dangerously quiet somewhere up above me. I could hear the soft hiss of the night table drawer being opened, something being taken out and the click of something being opened. I belatedly wondered what it was that he was doing but I was in no shape to really think about it at this point, not with this burning pleasure within me rising to new levels with each passing moment.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yes," I whispered through pleasure-gritted teeth, groaning as I felt the cool swipe of some kind of cream across my hot skin, "oh, yes, Miles. I love you!" I swallowed once again, groaning as another soft touch sent shock waves of pleasure rolling through me.

He nuzzled the back of my neck gently as he positioned himself behind me, parting my legs, kneeling in between them and raising my hips. I shook in combined dread and pleasure. I wanted this so badly; at the same time, I was a little nervous.

I felt him position himself at my opening. I could feel his hand gently caressing my skin and I slowly began to relax as he leaned over me, his chin resting on my left shoulder, parting my bottom.

He planted a wet kiss on my shoulder and then lifted his head to nibble on my ear as he gently pressed a greased finger into me. I yelped in surprise but soon relaxed as he began to move it in and out. Miles smiled seductively as he continued, opening me up further, readying me for lovemaking. It felt so odd but, at the same time, it felt so good.

_Only you..._ I thought groggily as Miles plied his attentions to me, squeezing out some more cream on his other hand, covering his hardness with it,_it's only been you..._ I groaned painfully through gritted teeth as Miles hit a particularly tender spot that soon turned to hot, stinging pleasure. _There was never anyone else... only... you...!_

"I love you, too, Wright," he whispered tenderly, as I felt him slowly press himself against my rear passage. I cried out in delight, grabbing two handfuls of the comforter in trembling hands as I eagerly awaited him to join with me.

"Oh, Miles!" I moaned as I felt him slowly push himself into me. He met with some resistance at first, pain mixing with hot pleasure until, with a loud groan, he was buried deep within me. I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face momentarily in the mattress, waiting for the pain to pass, groaning in mindless pleasure as he did so.

He held himself inside me for a brief moment and then, with a hard thrust, began to pump in and out of me. I gasped as I thrust my hips back against him, wanting to take in as much of him as I could, crying out in mindless pleasure. He held my hips in his strong hands and I enjoyed that as much as his lovemaking; at every thrust, pleasure ripped through my overheated and overly sensitive body.

Words poured from Miles' mouth but I couldn't understand most of what he was saying since he kept moaning and crying out in the middle of them. Then again, I wasn't overly coherent myself, abandoning myself to the sweet pleasure that Miles was giving me. We were in full flight now, strong bodies hotly threshing and pulsing with a life and energy all its own.

Miles thrust harder and deeper into me, hitting all my sensitive spots all at once; I shook and screamed in ecstasy, thrusting back harder against him, burying him deeper within me at every backward thrust. He held me close to him, pounding into my body as hard and as deeply as he could until I felt Miles stiffen behind me and cry out, driving himself deeply into me to the root as hot, milky fluid shot deeply into me.

I came soon after, screaming out his name over and over until we both collapsed onto the bed, panting loudly, our hot, sweaty bodies still locked together.

My mind was whirling as I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath while my body throbbed with wonderful abandon. There was a contented, cat-like smile on my lips which I imagined Miles had on his face as well.

I could never have imagined, in my wildest dreams, that making love with a man would prove to be so wonderfully exciting; nor could I have ever imagined that I would be here now with the man I loved, so wonderfully and completely sated, lying on top of my back. It was pure bliss.  
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It was some time before either of us could move. Miles recovered first, slowly lifting himself off of me and flopping down on the bed beside me. His hands gently sought out my skin, slowly sliding them over my shoulders before he wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling the back of my neck playfully. I smiled contentedly as I slowly rolled over to face him, burrowing into his arms.

He smiled sweetly at me as he gently kissed me, his half-open grey eyes dancing with happiness as I laid my head down on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart slowly returning to normal. I felt him lift his hand, his fingers slowly dragging through my hair and I sighed with contentment as he did so.

We spent many moments of companionable silence together in this way with Miles stroking my hair while I murmured pleasantly with every stroke. I loved being in his arms and I thought ahead to the many nights-and days as well-that we would spend together in the future.

"Wright?" I heard Miles ask hesitantly, his fingers tenderly skimming over my cheek.

"Mmmm?" I replied, slowly lifting my head to look at him, still worn out from our passionate lovemaking, my half-open eyes looking at him curiously. "What is it, Miles?"

He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Are you happy?" he asked at last after a few moments of silence.

My eyes popped open with considerable surprise, my brow furrowing. I thought _that_ rather an odd question for him to ask but I answered him just the same.

I nodded slowly, choosing my words carefully.

"Yes, Miles, I _am_ happy." I grinned at him as I playfully pecked the corner of his mouth, feeling it curve into a gentle smile. "I've never been happier than I am right now. With you." It was the complete and unvarnished truth.

"Nor I," he replied softly, a shy smile spreading over his face before his lips captured mine once more in a deep kiss. and, after we parted, he lifted his hand to gently cup the side of my face, his thumb stroking my skin tenderly, a look of surprised wonder on his face. It was almost as if he was taken aback by how good and how right it felt. "I _never_ dreamed I would be this happy."

I murmured happily, tilting my head slightly to the right, my face wreathed in a silly smile, trying to lighten the slightly somber mood a little.

Miles laughed and hugged me close once again murmuring, "I love you, Wright."

"I love you, too, Miles," I replied softly, kissing his lips gently, my eyes shining. "I love you, too."

And I did. With all of my heart.

We snuggled together for some time after that, making love once again before falling into an exhausted sleep that lasted a good part of the day.

I thought that my heart would burst with joy when I woke later on. Miles was still sound asleep beside me and I marveled, as I propped myself up on one elbow to look at him, at how angelic he looked with his tousled grey hair spread out on the pillow.

I gazed lovingly at him, hardly able to believe that this beautiful man was really and truly mine. I smiled softly as I leaned over and gently kissed him on his forehead, whispering, "I love you, Miles, with all of my heart" before I turned over and lay down again, nestling my back against him and just enjoying his presence until he woke.

All was well in my world. I loved Miles... and he loved me.

It would be this love that would keep me going over three agonizing years when I thought that Miles was dead and it would prove the catalyst for the next stage of our relationship when he returned.

But that is a tale for another time.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: This story is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so as not to confuse those who have read that story first._

_Ceteris Paribus is Latin for "All Things Being Equal." It was a chance look at a Wikipedia entry way back when that first gave me the inspiration for this story and it's title. :) I also looked it up on the "Latin Phrases in Common Usage in English" website and it gave me the same English translation. :)  
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From a promising beginning, storm clouds have now gathered on the horizon and Phoenix has a terrible nightmare which proves to be a harbinger of doom. Past, present and future meet...  
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The seventh chapter! At last it's come! This is certainly turning into quite the complicated story. :) From it's beginning as a 19 page story, it's taken off in directions that I didn't think of when I first started writing it; I am very happy that it has done so. I'm also very pleased with how it has evolved as it has and this chapter will wrap up all the loose ends from the first 6 chapters with chapter 8 being the beginning of the second half of the story. :)

A huge **THANK YOU **to all of my loyal readers who have enjoyed and continue to enjoy my work–I couldn't do it without you all and I am very grateful to each one of you!

**THANK YOU** to my wonderful betas, ShadowSuzaku & Lyrical Rawr, whom I appreciate immensely!

**THANK YOU** to the people who have read my work on my sub-Board on The Playing Field and commented–I appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think!

A ** very extra-special THANK YOU** to my husband for his advice, encouragement, and nagging. I appreciate it far more than I can ever say!

I hope you all enjoy this long overdue chapter! As always, comments and suggestions are appreciated and welcomed. :)

Rated NC-17, M, male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix & Edgeworth

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_December 23rd  
7:40 P.M._

It was pitch black outside when I at last woke early that evening. I hadn't meant to fall asleep as I had; I had been intending only to curl up beside Miles and wait until he awoke although it was clear that, despite my best intentions, I had drifted off somewhere along the line.

Miles was curled up by my side, sleeping soundly, his hand lying gently on my side. I managed to prop myself up on one elbow without disturbing him and smiled as I looked down at him, tenderly brushing a stray piece of grey hair that had fallen across his eyes.

The pale moonlight coming in through the frosty window fell gently over his face, giving his pale skin an ethereal beauty beyond description; my breath caught as I once again marveled that this beautiful man was really and truly mine.

His breathing was even, his bare chest rising and falling gently with every breath and I found myself grinning from ear to ear as I watched, thinking of what changes the past three days had wrought in both of our lives. His lashes lay still on his cheeks and I found myself smiling a silly little smile as I looked down on him.

_A dream come true at last_, I thought in wonder, my eyes misting, my breath catching slightly. _I have the one I truly love... and it feels_ wonderful! I chuckled softly to myself at the thought, thinking how much like a love-struck schoolboy I sounded. The truth was that I really _did_ feel that heady giddiness, my heart so full of joy that it threatened to burst from my chest.

_It's amazing what a difference three days can make in your life. I went from hell to heaven in the space of one day and I'm still trying to catch up!_

I chuckled as I settled in more comfortably beside him. This weekend had been one of discovery for us both and I was surprised at how wide an area the changes encompassed. I wondered if he felt the same way I did and what he thought of this turnabout in our relationship. I didn't have to wonder how I felt about it-I was happier than I could ever describe in words-but I was curious to know what he thought of it all. There was a crooked grin on my face at the very thought and I was happy that all, at last, was right in my world.

One thing did trouble me, though: _why_ was I twisting myself up in knots? _What_ was it that was nagging me in the back of my head that just wouldn't let up? Something was definitely bothering me but I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly _what_ that might be. To add to the mystery, _why_ was I so afraid? My brow furrowed at the thought. What could I possibly have to be afraid of? Miles and I were now a couple so why was that nagging fear in the back of my mind?

It didn't make any sense to me on any level and I found the persistent thought becoming an unsettling one, not to mention annoying. With a will, I brushed it away impatiently, returning my focus to the beautiful man sleeping next to me, my blue eyes looking over his sleeping form in wonder and joy. I couldn't get enough of him.

_He looks so angelic when he sleeps_, I thought to myself, my hand tenderly, but softly, touching his cheek. _I still can't believe that this beautiful man, this sweet Prince, is all mine._

He stirred after I had removed my hand, slowly opening one eye, giving me a lop-sided grin as his fingers gripped my side. I blushed and began to apologize for waking him from his peaceful sleep but he shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he drew me down to him and kissing me tenderly.

_Well... I guess I_ don't _need to apologize after all. At least,_ he _doesn't seem to think I need to..._ There was a mischievous though playful grin on my face as I drew closer to him, feeling his fingers running through my tousled hair, losing myself in Miles' arms and kiss with happy abandonment.

When we at last parted some time later, he smiled at me, gently rubbing my nose with his. I smiled at him, reveling in this gentle sign of affection, my heart threatening to leap from my chest with joy. How wonderful it felt to love and be loved in return by the one person I loved more than anyone else in the world!

"Good evening, sleepyhead," I teased and I was rewarded with a rich chuckle, his fingers gently massaging the back of my head. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up."

I winked at him, letting him know I was only joking. He chuckled once again, leaning his forehead against mine, his eyes closing, immersing himself in the closeness we shared together.

We spent some time in silence just enjoying each other. I never wanted this to end but I knew that, sooner or later, we would have to go home and leave this wonderful place where our love took form and was realized.

_Work calls_, I thought, sighing wistfully, sorry that this wonderful weekend had to come to its inevitable conclusion. I was determined to enjoy these moments of closeness knowing that they would be severely curtailed once we got back to the city and went back to work. _But I want to make the most of the moments we have now, here in this place._

Miles' answering nod and sigh told me that he, too, was of the same frame of mind that I was in this respect and that lifted my spirits immensely.

_We_ can _make this work... we_ will _make this work! I don't want anyone else, only Miles. He's all I've ever wanted..._

My hand gently caressed his cheek as I leaned closer to him, planting a soft, gentle kiss on his lips before I drew him close to me, his head lying on my shoulder, his arms going around me and holding me close.

"I love you, Miles," I murmured softly in his ear, running my fingers through his hair and closing my eyes, enjoying being with him. I never wanted it to end...

"I love you, too, Phoenix," Miles whispered back, tightening his arms around me, burying his face in my neck.

We lay like this for some time, holding each other and just enjoying being together. I was happier than I ever thought I could be. As I held my beloved close, I had every reason to expect that our story would have a happy ending, that we would go out into the world together and face whatever challenges that would come our way. And that nagging unease at the back of my head would finally go away.

Later that night, as we slept in each others arms, I would find out that I was wrong.

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_There was a suffocating blackness surrounding me, choking me with invisible fingers. I desperately tried to claw my way out of the darkness but it was in vain; I couldn't cut through the penetrating gloom nor could I see anything but inky blackness no matter in which direction I looked._

_Miles was beside me; as I reached out to take his hand, he shook his head sadly and moved away from me. Stunned, I took a single step to follow him but he again shook his head and began to slowly fade from sight before my horrified eyes._

_Anguished, I cried out for him to stay, making a desperate dash towards his slowly retreating form and trying to grab his hand but, as I attempted to do so, his hand slowly dissolved into a fleeting mist, slipping through my grasping fingers._

_It reminded me of Hamlet's _"Oh, that this too too solid flesh would melt..." _and terribly real as I stared in horrified fascination at the transformation. He looked sadly at me as he slowly faded from sight; his lips were moving but I couldn't make out the words._

_No matter what I did, I couldn't hold on to him though I desperately tried. I cried out in pain as I tried to keep him from slipping away from me but it was all useless in the end–he was gone. And I was alone in this place. All alone.._

_I screamed my pain to the uncaring blackness, falling to my knees, whispering his name over and over again, tears falling down my cheeks like rain. After all we had been through, he was gone from my life again...and it didn't look like he would be back this time._

_Loneliness coursed through my body in painful waves, striking me with all the force of a hard punch until I could hardly breathe. I cried out desperately into the darkness, hoping against hope to hear just one word from him but it was for nothing; a chilling, uncaring silence answered me._

_Bereft of hope, I fell on my face to the ground, weeping bitter tears onto the hard surface. 'He's gone ..he's gone..he's gone.. flashed through my fevered mind and I felt my heart break within me, the pitiless litany becoming louder and louder until I couldn't take the pain any longer._

_Above my head, thunder rolled, streaks of lightning slashing through the black sky. A chorus of deep, rumbling voices, like a hellish choir, chanted _"Ceteris Paribus, Ceteris Paribus, Ceteris Paribus, Ceteris Paribus"_ over and over, the voices becoming louder and more menacing with every chant with higher pitched voices intoning "_All things being equal, All things being equal, All things being equal,"_ in between, the shrill cacophony growing into a crescendo that nearly deafened me._

_I cried out helplessly as I clapped my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the loud dissonance but it swelled louder... and louder... and louder..._

_I reared up on my knees, my hands clasped tightly to the side of my head, my tear-filled eyes drawn up to the stormy black sky. I moaned in horror as I saw these words in blood red scarlet written across the __sky: __**CETERIS PARIBUS.**_

_My mouth opened wide, a wrenching scream dragged from me...  
_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_"__**NOOOOOO**__!"_

I sat bolt-upright in bed, drenched in sweat, my breathing being torn from me in deep, ragged gasps, tears running freely down my face, my body shaking violently. My mind was whirling with chaotic thoughts, my mouth opening and closing; I tried to speak but found that I couldn't, my frozen lips unable to form words.

"Wright!" I heard a voice cry out, followed a few seconds later with arms being wrapped around my shivering body and holding me close. "Wright, wake up! _**WAKE UP**__!"_

My head snapped back at the imperious command and, once my eyes were able to focus again, I saw Miles looking at me, his eyes wide, concern etched very clearly on his face. Once he saw that my eyes were open though still as of yet not completely focused, he pulled me closer to him, wrapping his strong arms around me. His hand gently stroked my sweat-soaked hair, crooning soft words of comfort.

_Now I know how he felt..._

_I_n what seemed to me to be hours later, I was dimly aware that I was awake and that Miles was holding me tightly in his arms. Once I was firmly convinced that I was that the terrifying vision I had experienced was only a nightmare and not real, I lay my head on his shoulder and let loose the violent emotions suppressed within me.

Miles held me closely as I cried bitter tears, my body shaking so violently my teeth were rattling. He held me through it all, gently kissing the top of my head, his rich voice whispering comforting words in my ears. I clung to his strong frame desperately, like a drowning man clinging to a life-preserver, my hands slowly clenching and unclenching into fists against his back.

He held me for some time until I had calmed down and stopped shivering; he gently pushed me back a little, one hand still around me while the other slowly lifted to cup the side of my face which he tenderly drew to his, his lips pressing softly against mine.

I leaned into Miles' reassuring and gentle kiss gratefully, my body pressing against his. My hand unconsciously stole from around him, sliding gently to his front; I could feel the rapid beating of his heart under my palms as I slowly caressed his bare chest. Just feeling his skin underneath my hand was comforting, filling me with a keen sense of relief.

_He's here... he's actually here. It was all just a nightmare... That's all it was... just a nightmare. It's _not_ real. Miles is here with me; I'm not alone in that horrible place..._

_T_he thought was definitely comforting.

"Wright..." Miles' voice whispered as we slowly parted, my hand still pressed against his chest. "Are you all right?"

I looked uncertainly at him, my eyes haunted.

"I... think so," I replied, snuggling closer to him, looking up at him as he cupped the left side of my face in his hand.

He made no comment as he held me close, his presence helping to banish the terrible things I had seen in the nightmare. I looked up at him some time later and his eyes were soft and inviting, his thumb gently stroking the tears away.

He gently leaned over and pressed his mouth against mine, pulling me close to him and holding me tightly. I leaned into the gentle kiss with great relief, almost as if I was trying to prove to myself that this was real and the nightmare was just that. A nightmare.

"Phoenix," Miles' voice whispered, his lips lingering on mine. "I love you..." His lips then gently nibbled their way down the left side of my neck; I closed my eyes and moaned softly.

"I... love you, too, Miles," I whispered back, swallowing hard, my body slowly coming alive in his embrace.

The terrors of the nightmare were slowly washed away in the wake of Miles' love and, when I felt his lips travel over my neck, gently nibbling, I closed my eyes and moaned in pleasure, letting my mind travel into far more pleasant venues. I could feel the beating of his heart and it comforted me, proving to me that this was real and what I had experienced was only a terrible phantasm in my own head.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, my arms tightening around his neck as a terrible feeling of foreboding washed over me in that instant. I tried to ignore the feeling but it kept getting stronger and I was hard pressed to explain it away.

_It was only a nightmare_, I told myself sternly as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers gently stroking the back of his head. It_'s not real... Miles is here with me and I'm not alone. I don't have to be afraid..._

Even as this thought crossed my mind, fear welled up in me from deep within for no reason that I could fathom and, with great effort, I pushed it into the furthest corners of my consciousness, returning to the much more pleasant reality. Why did I have such a bad feeling about all of this? Was it only just the remnants of the nightmare or was it actually trying to warn me about some impending calamity?

A shudder rippled through me, terror threatening to engulf me. Miles noticed this at once and held me even closer to him, his voice whispering comfort in my ears, his strong grip a solid rock to cling to as I desperately tried to fight off this wave of ensuing panic.

_It was only a nightmare, Wright, _I chided myself again, wishing that these thoughts would go away as I nibbled his jaw line with soft, gentle love bites. _It's not real. Miles is here with me; I'm not alone. I don't have to be afraid. But... why am I so afraid? And why am I letting it get to me like this? I wish I knew!_

Miles, understanding the source of my seemingly continual distractions, caressed me softly, his every touch gentle and comforting, his lips soft and sweet. I let my thoughts drift away on a sea of pleasure as he caressed my burning body, the flames of our passion rising higher and higher.

_Promise me you'll never leave me, Miles, I_ thought as he tenderly lay me down on the bed, his eyes shining with love and passion._ Promise me you'll never leave me alone... _I groaned as his hands tenderly caressed me, his lips gently bussing my own before returning to press harder with passion and a promise. Any and all thought was pushed into the furthest reaches of my mind after that and I lost myself in his tender lovemaking, our bodies threshing together in pleasure, losing ourselves in our own little world.

We lay quietly together for some time afterward, Miles stroking my hair and whispering softly. I clung to him, still in the clutches of some nameless fear that I couldn't pin down or identify. I fervently wished that it would go away and leave me in peace so Miles and I could enjoy our last night here until we went back to the city the next day.

I lifted my head, my eyes narrowing as my glance fell on the snow that I could see outside the window. The first rays of dawn were slowly spreading across the black velvet sky, soft light beginning to penetrate the darkness and I could see that it was snowing steadily and apparently had been for some time, if the accumulated snow on the window sill outside was any indication.

I briefly marveled at how beautiful it looked before my attention was once more brought back to Miles as I leaned over and kissed him, my arms tightening around him; I could feel his lips slowly curve into a smile underneath my mouth as he wrapped his arms around me.

It seemed that the rising sun had-at least temporarily-banished the terrors of the night and those nagging thoughts receded into the furthest corner of my mind. I didn't know how long they would stay there but I was determined to enjoy the time I had with Miles to the fullest.

With that firmly in mind, I turned my full attention to my lover and the very pleasant kiss I was currently sharing with him...

I was at peace and happy.

Little did I know, at that moment, that this was to be the_ last _day of peace and contentment I would know for a _very _long time. And, much later, I would realize just _how_ prophetic that dream would turn out to be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_2 years later..._

_November 23rd  
Wright & CO. Law Offices  
2:44 A.M._

_The office was dark when I arrived early that cold November morning. I couldn't sleep the night before so I had decided to go down to the office and try to catch up on some paperwork for an upcoming case I was defense counsel for._

_It had been snowing sporadically for some time in the past few weeks; as I made my way to the office __and reached out to put the key in the lock, it started to snow once again. I looked up at the pitch black sky as I felt the first snowflake gently land on my cheek, my heart an aching void; my breath caught for a moment and then I flinched, as if I had been struck._

_I usually loved the snow but now it held no joy for me and did nothing to remove the gloom that had settled around me like a shroud, firmly encasing me in a cocoon of loss and grief. It reminded me too much of... him... and the happy but all too brief time we had spent together._

_I swallowed hard and tried to get my thoughts together in a coherent fashion. The winter's bitter chill permeated my flesh, the biting wind creeping up under my wool scarf half wound around my neck but I paid no attention as I stood in the doorway, the key in my gloved hand, the falling snowflakes mixing with the tears silently streaming down my face._

_I shook my head violently, trying to keep the memory of him from resurfacing but, try as I might, I couldn't; to be honest, I wasn't certain I_ really_ wanted to. He was a part of me as surely as blood and bone, so firmly entrenched in my heart and soul that I doubted I could uproot him._

_His face flashed in front of my eyes and I took an involuntary step backward, a gasp of surprise escaping my lips before I could stop it. My throat tightened as my hands involuntarily clutched the corners of my collar together. I closed my eyes hard, willing the tears to stop, wishing with all my soul that my heart would stop hurting and that he would get out of my head!_

"Miles is dead," _I told myself sternly, forcing myself to put the key in the lock, twisting it to the left and opening the door. _"He's dead. Miles... is... dead... He chose death... and he's dead." _I wished that my insides would stop twisting and turning whenever I thought of what had happened. _"Keep telling yourself that, no matter how much it hurts. Miles. Is. Dead! He's dead... he's dead..."

_To my horror, my hands started to shake and it took every ounce of strength I had within not to drop the keys on the floor; I leaned against the door for a moment as a wave of dizziness engulfed me._

_I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the disorientation and nausea to subside, stars dancing behind my closed lids. This had been happening frequently the past few months and I suspected that it was only my body's reaction to the nearly unbearable and unrelenting grief I felt._

"When will it stop?"_ I whispered brokenly, my eyes shining with unshed tears. _"Will it ever stop?"

_The lump in my throat was so large it threatened to choke me and I briefly wondered if my life would ever return back to something resembling normal, not that I had much of one left or my life was really commonplace to begin with._

"I wish, I wish I could... I don't... want... I..."_ What was it that I was trying to say? What was it I was thinking? I didn't know anymore and this sobering fact alarmed me._

_A soft whisper on the wind caused me to look up in shock, my body trembling violently and my heart pounding in my chest, Miles' name upon my lips before I could stop myself. For a brief and breathless moment, I thought I had heard his voice..._

_It wasn't enough that I was fearing the loss of my sanity, but now I was being haunted as well by the ghost I loved so deeply.  
_  
I must be going mad... _I thought as I tried to catch my breath, trying to still the pounding of my heart as I turned slightly and looked over my shoulder as if I were expecting to see him standing behind me. _"Stop haunting me! You're dead and gone! Now, go away and leave me alone, damn it!"

_I quickly stepped over the threshold of the doorway, wiping my boots on the door mat inside and slamming the door pointedly behind me, my heart pounding. That whisper I had thought I had heard disturbed me far more than I wanted to admit..._

_I raced up the stairs, two at a time, until I came to the office door. I leaned against it, my heart pounding in my chest, my throat tight as I tried not to let a sob escape my lips._

_I clenched my hands tightly together and lifted my arm, my fist crashing against the door with a loud bang. I clenched my teeth hard as I hit it again and again, pounding the door repeatedly, an anguished cry ripped from the depths of my soul with every blow._

_"Why, Miles? __**Why**__?"_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_6:50 P.M._

_I sat at my desk, pen in hand, my other hand lying flat on the journal page that lay in front of me. I looked out of the window into the inky blackness of the dark, starless November night, thinking hard as I read and re-read the words I was writing on the creamy white page._

_All my memories, recorded on parchment and searing my soul with grief and loneliness as they came back in a rushing tide. Whether or not I wanted them to was another thing entirely._

_Whoever it was that said it would be therapeutic if you wrote down your thoughts and feelings on paper didn't have to deal with the crushing feelings I did and, I surmised, he or she was out of their collective mind. I knew that it was a petty and childish thought but, at this point, I didn't really care how it sounded. It was how I felt._

_I sighed loudly. _Memories; how cruel and cold they could be_, I mused as I shifted in my seat, tears threatening to fall down my face. I missed him terribly, a gaping hole in my soul that nothing could ever fill yet, even as I missed him, I cursed him._

_I cursed him for leaving me; I cursed him for his weakness; I cursed him for being a coward and I hated him for leaving a gaping wound in my heart and soul that threatened to crush me beneath a wave of despair intermingled with anger and grief._

Why, Miles?_ I implored from the depths of my tormented soul for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, railing at the dead Miles in my mind with increasingly bitter fury. _Why? Why did you do this... how could you do this when you promised... you promised me you wouldn't? _My hands trembled as mixed emotions raged through me, clenching and unclenching into fists. H_ow could you do this... to US?

_Tears fell down my face like rain and I wept inconsolably in the cold room. I tried desperately to hold __them back, to bury them deep inside but they burst from me as I lowered my head onto the desk, letting all the pain, anguish, anger and fear I felt out in one rushing tide of bitter emotion._

_It had been seven months since Miles died and the most difficult seven months I had ever faced._

_My world had come crashing down around me and my heart was broken, leaving my soul in tatters. Even now, I don't know how I would have made it through those first horrendous months without the steadfast love and support of my friends; my gratitude to them was deep and heart-felt._

_What I _couldn't_ bring myself to tell them was that I felt as hollow as an empty shell inside and daily I sought to escape a life that had become unbearable. Try though I might, I couldn't escape Miles' memory; like it or not, he was wedged firmly into my mind where nothing could uproot him._

I guess I'm just going to have to live with that_, I acknowledged bitterly, turning once again to look out of the window, my head beginning to throb, pressing my hand tightly over my eyes in a futile effort to ease the pain. _I_ don't _have any other choice. I'm_ not g_oing to take the easy way out, the way_... I paused for a moment, fighting down the terrible grief I felt welling up inside. _The way..._ he... _did...

_I closed my eyes tightly, a small whimpering sound escaping my tightly clenched lips, tears sliding slowly down my face. I ached for him and the loss of him as I reflected on what might have been had he not..._

Stop it! Just... stop it._ I sighed as I lowered my head, feeling tired and defeated; all I wanted was peace and respite from the endless torment but even this small consolation was denied me. I felt that nothing would ever be right again and resigned myself to merely existing._

How long was this going to go on...? _I thought in despair a little while later, feeling that tight, suffocating blackness closing in once again._ When would I ever stop hurting? _I clenched my free hand into a fist. _Will I _ever_ be whole again?

_At this point, I highly doubted it._


	8. Chapter 8

_**First off, I'd like to wish one of my beta readers, Lyrical Rawr, a very Happy Birthday! I hope you have a GREAT day, a wonderful birthday today and a GREAT year to come!**__** All the best to you and Happy Birthday!**_

_A/N: This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so as not to confuse those who may have read that story first. :)_

_The 'dream' Phoenix refers to in the second half of the story-and the reasons why he refers to a dead guy lounging around on his bed-after the flashback sequence are found in_ "Bridge of Sorrow 1: Phantom Lover."

The sun is setting on the first half of the story and a new dawn will soon begin. Phoenix is slowly coming to terms with Miles' death two and a half years later but he's still hurting inside and struggling to understand why Miles chose death over a life together with him. Now, with a new case he's taken on, he has a chance to make a fresh start.

It's been a long time coming but its here at last! This chapter wraps up the first half of the story neatly and the second half will begin in chapter 9. :) I'm glad that this first half is complete and I'm looking forward to writing the second half... and this is the last time I'll be horribly verbose!

There is a slight spoiler from PW:AA from the closing credits of Case 5,_ Rise From The Ashes_–the first words the bellboy speaks when he goes to deliver Edgeworth's tea I've used here for the flashback sequence, his later conversation is my own creation. What follows is my vision of how events transpired and how Phoenix found out about the note Miles left since we don't know in game _how_ he found out. (I would logically expect that the bellboy either told him personally or told someone else-possibly Gumshoe or another police officer-who in turn told Phoenix, went through Maya or some other way entirely. I've chosen the first scenario.) Also mention of both the DL-6 and SL-9 cases.

Instead of Miles being absent for just one year (as he is in Justice For All), I extended it two years to three for storytelling purposes. My reasoning then-and now-was that one year was too short a time to tell the story the way I wanted, with all of its ensuing drama, emotional upheaval intertwined with a case and then Phoenix's eventual acceptance of the situation as it is and his reaction when Miles returns from the 'dead.' There's a lot of ground to cover, in that respect so I wanted the time to be able to fully explore and develop these themes. Hence, the two year extension of Miles' absence.

To all my loyal readers, reviewers and those who have read-those who have also favourited and alerted-and enjoy my work a BIG** THANK YOU**!! is in order. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate the feedback and I am glad to see that people are enjoying my stories. I do apologize upfront for being very late with responses–so much going on and I'm sorry I didn't get to them! This will definitely be remedied in future! I do appreciate them and thank you!

To my amazingly **AWESOME** beta readers, ShadowSuzaku & Lyrical Rawr: **THANK YOU**!! I can't even begin to tell you both just how much I appreciate the wonderful work you both do, particularly with this chapter.Thank you both for your patience as well! It takes a dedicated person to be a beta and I am very grateful that you both are mine. :) You both** ROCK**!!

To my wonderful husband for his advice, support, nagging (when necessary) and helping me to stay grounded: **THANK YOU**!! I appreciate it more than I can ever say!

I hope that you all enjoy this long overdue chapter! As always, comments and suggestions are appreciated and welcomed. :)

Rated NC 17, M, male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix & Edgeworth

------------------------------------------------o------------------------------------------------------ 

"Mr. Edgeworth? Are you here?"_ The bellboy looked around Miles' office from the half open door, a tray loaded with a full, piping hot teapot and tea accessories balanced expertly on his left hand. He knocked once again before tentatively stepping inside, looking around as he did so, his brow furrowing slightly. The office was empty._

_This was certainly strange; Mr. Edgeworth was _always_ here in his office at this time of day._

_His brow creased in puzzlement, he happened to catch sight of a piece of folded ivory colored paper that lay on the corner of Mr. Edgeworth's desk. Setting down the tray, he picked it up, opened it and scanned it quickly, his eyes widening in shock at the words..._

_The bellboy staggered backward, bracing himself against Mr. Edgeworth's desk. Feeling his hand come into contact with something thick, his eyes traveled down and found his address book lying open with an address printed in clear, block letters on the creamy white page: Phoenix Wright, Wright & CO. Law Offices. 4501-42nd Street West, Building 1236, Second Floor._

_Mr. Wright's address seemed to tear the bellboy from his sudden stupor as he whirled around and tore out of Edgeworth's office, the tea tray lying forgotten on top of his desk. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding as he raced through the lobby and flew through the revolving doors, drawing stares from passers-by as he did so._

_The note with those shocking words written on it was still clutched in his trembling hand and the only coherent thought he had was that he needed to see Mr. Wright. Quickly!_

_XXXXXX_

_The bellboy came crashing in through my office door that afternoon, startling both Maya and I. We had been conversing-in truth, Maya had been the one doing the talking while I sat and listened-before he arrived and his sudden appearance was itself an unsettling event. I remember wondering why on earth he had come to my office._

_He was short of breath and holding his side, a painful grimace on his face. If I didn't know better, I could have sworn that he had run all the way here from the Prosecutor's Office. I motioned to him to sit but he shook his head as he bent over, still panting hard and short of breath._

"Maya, please get him a glass of water,"_ I said quickly, rising from my chair and going over to him as he slowly straightened up. She nodded and raced into the kitchen area to find a glass. I didn't know what it was that had brought him over to my office looking like death but he had to have a reason._

"Mr. Wright! Mr. Wright! Come quickly! Mr. Edgeworth... he... he... something's... I can't find him!"

_I heard Maya gasp as she ran back into the room, a glass of water clutched tightly in her hand. She looked very worried as I took the glass from her and handed it to the bellboy who took it gratefully and gulped it down, breathing heavily._

"Miles?"_ I heard myself ask hoarsely, my heart starting to beat faster. _"What about Miles?"_ I felt fear clutch at my heart as I took in the bellboy's appearance and only now did it sink in that he looked haggard. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, my fingers digging into his arms. _"What's wrong? Has something happened?!"

_He weakly pushed on my arms and I let him go, staggering back a few steps. _"I... I don't know, Mr. Wright. I... I went over to his office to deliver his usual afternoon tea and... and he... wasn't there." _He winced slightly at the jolt of pain in his side and handed me the piece of crumpled paper that he held in his hand. _"I found this on his desk."

_At that moment I had a premonition of disaster, the nightmare I'd had four months earlier coming back into my mind. I trembled, __beads of sweat appearing on my forehead. I looked at the crumpled parchment like it was a poisonous viper, my mouth twisting into a frightened grimace, mewling sounds emerging from deep within my throat. I didn't want to look at it but I knew I had to..._

_My body shook as I read the note, a strangled scream emerging from tightly pressed lips, moaning like a dying animal. I barely noticed that both Maya and the bellboy were sporting equally disturbed expressions; I could dimly make out their concerned voices asking me if I was all right._

_The world around me was closing in and I was finding it difficult to breathe. Stars danced before my eyes, __a red mist covering everything in a sickly blood-red color as I struggled to keep upright. I didn't know who was rocking the floor but I wished they would stop as I swayed back and forth from one foot to the other, my heart pounding in my chest. _

_My shaking hand cupped my hot, sweaty face, the other that held the note clutched at the side of my desk. My legs were trembling so badly that I could hardly stand__ up and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I fell down, my legs no longer being able to support me._

_I heard voices in the background but they sounded so far away and I doubted that they could reach me in time to save me from falling; there was nothing I could do to save myself and I wasn't sure I wanted to try. It seemed like a futile exercise to me, feeling my spasming limbs jerking and twisting like a puppet gone mad on its strings._

_Words tumbled from my lips in an unending stream, though Maya later told me the single word that I kept repeating sorrowfully in my delirium was "Miles..." _

_The note dropped from my numb fingers, fluttering gently to the floor and I followed shortly after, my legs crumpling beneath me. It seemed like I was falling slowly to the ground, like leaves falling from the tree in the fall; there was a screaming sound in my ears that grew louder as the seconds passed._

_I hit the floor hard, knocking the breath from my body. I gasped and desperately tried to breathe but it was getting more and more difficult to. My eyes turned to see the scrap of paper on the floor a few inches from my head. I reached out for it, my hands clenching and unclenching involuntarily, my lips repeating Miles' name over and over and over. A stifled sob burst from me before I rolled over on my back; I heard voices calling me and although I tried to respond, I found that I had no voice._

"Nick!"

"Mr. Wright!"

"Nick!"

_The last thing I remembered was a cool hand reaching out and touching my forehead and, when I opened my eyes, seeing the face of my beloved Miles looking sadly at me. I reached out to take his hand but found I couldn't move; he seemed to be moving away from me and I called out his name out desperately as he slowly melted into the shadows._

"No... MILES... ! NO! OH GOD... **MILES**!"

_I tried to respond to the voices but I couldn't. I wanted to wake from this living nightmare and go back to another time and another place where Miles would be by my side. I didn't want to live without him... Why was this happening?!_

"**NICK**!"

_I fell into the darkness, welcoming its enveloping embrace gladly..._

_-------------------------------------------------------------o------------------------------------------------------ _

_**Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death.**_

That was all it said. Just those five words.

_**Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death.**_

Five words that had shattered my life and splintered my soul. Five words that made me wonder every day, in the two and a half years since, what I could have done to prevent it or even if it would have mattered. Five words that destroyed my world and broke my heart. Five words that made me doubt I could ever be whole again.

_**Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death.**_

_God, how I hated him for that._

I stood in the hallway of the house we once shared together, leaning against the wall opposite the bedroom. The night light cast soft shadows in the darkened hallway and I wondered again why I was so hesitant about entering the room; there wasn't anything in there that should have made me waver like this.

_It's just... there's no one in there... He's... not there. _I sighed and closed my eyes, feeling a hard lump beginning to form in my throat. _That's the difference. He's not there. It feels so... empty ... Like me..._

_Like my life. _

Two and a half years later and I still mourned for him. Would I ever be free of this unrelenting grief?

I rested my head against the wall, my eyes filling with tears. I had hoped, once the one year mark had been reached, that this unrelenting grief I felt would at last begin to recede into the background. If anything, it had gotten worse as time went on.

I felt so empty inside, like a part of me died when Miles did and I hurt, that terrible ache a constant reminder of what I had lost. The room just didn't have any appeal anymore and it was a place I dreaded entering.

It might come across as being ridiculous, and perhaps it was, but to some extent it was also understandable. Many of his things-such as clothing, a toothbrush and a hairbrush-still remained and it pained me to have to look at them and be reminded of my loss.

Many times I found myself running my fingertips gently over the fine bristles of his hairbrush, a slight thrill running through me as I touched the fine strands of grey hair that remained, stroking them softly. Soon after, the pleasure was followed by a terrible longing which led to the terrible grief that never completely left me. It seemed I wasn't even safe when I slept anymore.

Even though another year had come and gone, I still felt that aching loneliness. My soul was in tatters and my heart was in turmoil. It certainly didn't help that I had a very strange dream where Miles had come to me six months earlier and it still disturbed me when I thought back on it.

_It was all so... surreal..._ I could have easily just passed it off as a wild dream if it weren't for the marks on my skin and the cravat wrapped tenderly around my neck which were _definite_ signs that something out of the ordinary had happened since neither were present before I went to bed that night. It also brought into focus, only too clearly, the fact that I was alone; my lover lost to me.

Night was the time I dreaded the most for that was when everything became crystal clear: all the hurt, pain and anger became quite pointed and I was forced to face my demons whether I wanted to or not.

I also dreaded that..._ dream _...coming again but it hadn't thus far. In one sense, I was disappointed since I longed with all my being to see him again but, in another, I was relieved since it was difficult enough to try and cope without having to see him and bringing back _everything_ I was trying to forget.

I had come so close to the edge of the abyss and I never wanted to come that close again. I sighed as the last rays of the setting sun filtered through the bedroom window, illuminating the black and white tiled floor for a brief moment before it faded into the enclosing darkness.

_This is ridiculous!_ I thought to myself, my toes curling against the thick carpet in the hallway. _For heaven's sake, there's nothing _in_ there!_ Still, my feet refused to move and this inability to move was beginning to annoy me since I couldn't stand out here all night! At some point, I had to go into the bedroom to go to bed; with the sparse amount of sleep I was getting lately, I really needed more.

_Let's look at this logically: what is it _exactly_ that I'm afraid of?__ Is it seeing Miles here or not seeing him?_ I sighed. _Let's be honest–maybe it's both. I'm afraid I'll see him here when I know that he's... _My breath caught and I swallowed hard, leaning against the wall as all the energy drained out of my body, my hands beginning to tremble. _Dead. __He's... gone... I have to accept that, no matter how hard it is._

I took a deep breath and got myself under control which wasn't an easy thing to do even under the best of circumstances. It took some time but, eventually, I managed to do so enough that I could think clearly without being overwhelmed by emotion.

_Alright, now to the second part. I'm_ also_ afraid of _not_ seeing him just as much as I would seeing him for the simple reason that it's creepy seeing a dead guy lounging around on my bed or appearing in front of me. _

I remembered the mist and I shuddered, not wanting to remember how it felt for Miles' mist fingers to touch me before they solidified into warm, soft flesh but unable to completely forget. _I guess on some level I don't _want_ to forget Miles and the love we shared together... If I do, I'll have to admit that he's _really_ gone. Honestly, I don't think that I could really handle that. I loved him too much to forget about him and, if I haven't forgotten him a year after his death, that says to me that I probably never will._

I lowered my head, letting the tears shining in my eyes fall in a silent stream down my face. _I really miss you, Miles_._ How I wish it didn't have to end this way!_ I squeezed my eyes shut_. I wanted to grow old with__ you and experience the best-and, yes, even the worst-that life has to offer. But that isn't possible now... and I feel so empty now that you're gone. _

I looked into the darkening bedroom, wondering what was lurking in the shadows. I grimaced, giving my head a disgusted shake_. I'm trying to be strong and I'm trying to be brave but I'm really not doing very well. There's good days but the bad seem to outnumber them... and it's very difficult to try to get through the day in this way, not to mention trying to live my life like this._

I pushed myself away from the wall, crossing my arms over my chest, staring into the dark bedroom with sadness and a little spark of anger. I tried to step forward but I couldn't... something was holding me back and I wasn't sure what. _He's not coming back... not this time. I have to go on with my life, for my own sake. As hard as it is, I have to go on..._ I clenched my fist. _I don't even have many happy memories to fall back on. If I could forget those last few months before he died, I would do so willingly._

The days and weeks leading up to the final months of Miles' life were definitely _not_ happy ones. They were, in fact, some of the most bitter and anguished I had ever been faced with since Miles had retreated into himself, effectively shutting me out. I tried everything I knew to try to get him to open up to me and tell me what was wrong but he kept the door inside himself firmly closed and no amount of battering was enough to break it down. It hurt... God, how it had hurt!

From heaven to hell in one fell swoop, bitter accusations flying fast and free between the two of us. For the most part, there did follow periods of entente now and again but these were far too few for my peace of mind.

He seemed to be a ghost, walking the lonely halls it has been condemned to haunt and rarely did I see him without a haunted expression on his face. I tried to be there for him, I _wanted_ to be there but he usually just pushed me away which, in turn, led to harsh words between us making an already unbearable situation that much worse.

I knew that the revelations of DL-6 would be difficult for him; what I _hadn't_ anticipated just _how_ difficult it would ultimately prove to be. In my naivete, I had hoped that finding out the truth about who the real killer of his father was would enable Miles to shed the ghosts of his past and move on to a bright future together with me. However, as events had proved so chillingly well after the SL-9 case was brought to a successful conclusion, it hadn't.

_I certainly learned differently, didn't I?_ I thought sadly, biting my lip. _I wish I'd been there that last day... Maybe I might have been able to stop you but I wonder if it was only prolonging the inevitable?__ What we had didn't matter much in the end since you threw it all away when you took your life._

I looked into the darkness, wondering if I would be able to shake off what was bothering me long enough to enter the room._ I really hated you for that, Miles; I still do to a certain extent. __All our plans, our life together, everything... you threw it all away without a second thought.__ Why?_

My mouth twisted into a sour grimace, tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes. I tried to ignore them._ Did it ever occur to you, even in those final moments, just _how_ much you would hurt me? That alone should have been enough to give you pause__ but it didn't... and I don't understand why_!

I shifted my weight over to my left leg and stared out of the window into the pitch black night. _Is this what's bothering me and why I can't move on? Is it only because I'm starting to doubt whether or not Miles truly loved me? I don't know what to think anymore... I feel so lost_...

I lowered my head._ Or is it something else? Why am I even thinking about this now? I have so much to do and no time to spare for haunting memories. __I want to forget... I want to forget that he ever existed_,_that I ever loved him. The pain is just too much to bear and I can't take it anymore._

I sighed brokenly, feeling angry at Miles, at the world and at myself. _If I'm trying to convince myself of that, I'm a bigger fool than some people think I am. I _can't_ forget him. I _can't _forget I loved him_._ I'm... not like that. I just _can't _turn my feelings off although, these days, there are times when I wish I could.__ I'm just going to have to learn to deal with it, whether I want to or not._

Two tears started to roll down my cheeks and I did nothing to stop them._ It hurts so damn much and it's so difficult some days to put one foot in front of the other __but I can't just give up; too many people depend on me and my friends would never forgive me._ I smiled ruefully through my tears. _Maybe they would eventually but I couldn't really blame them if they didn't–I'm having a difficult enough time as it is trying to forgive Miles for breaking my heart_...

I looked over into the darkened bedroom once again, forcing my feet to take one slow, painful step at a time in its direction, sweat starting to bead on my forehead from the effort. _Why am I doubting everything we ever had together? What does that say about me? I_ know _Miles loved me... I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt so can someone please explain to me _why_ am I picking everything apart now? Is it because I'm still angry that he abandoned me...?_

**Harsh words there, Wright.**

_But true. That's exactly how I feel. Abandoned._ I bit my lip, taking another agonizing step, swallowing hard. _Is that what's really bothering me at the heart of it all? Is this why I'm constantly second-guessing _everything_ we had? It does make some sense, after all. _I glanced quickly through the open door leading to the bedroom with trepidation, feeling my heart starting to beat faster, my mouth dry as dust_. I wonder..._

I gave my head a hard shake, feeling something tearing loose deep inside of me, tears splashing silently down my face and landing on the floor with a soft plipping sound.

_Damn it, Wright, stop it! Just stop it! _I clapped my hands against the sides of my head, a low moaning emerging through my tightly-pressed lips. It brought that nightmare I'd had two and a half years earlier clearly to mind; the last thing I wanted to do was to confront_ that _memory_. He's gone! Just accept it and move on; the sooner that happens the better it will be for all concerned. I can't just stop living my life because Miles chose to end his. I _have_ to go on... I have people depending on me. I _can't_ let them down._

I knew all of this but it didn't make it any easier to put it into action as I found over the past year and a half; in fact, it was damned near impossible. I broke down and cried sometimes at the worst possible moment and my friends-not to mention me-were very concerned about this.

I had a hard time at work and I took a month off to get myself together which, in the end, really didn't help as much as I hoped it would. That terrible ache and emptiness inside me still remained becoming, over time, much worse.

Something had to be done and soon. This couldn't be allowed to continue since my life, my mental health and my job were at stake. I wished I knew how to erase that perpetual emptiness I felt inside since nothing I'd tried up to this point had helped. I was quickly running out of options.

_Life is never easy..._

_**It never is, Phoenix. It never is.**_

* * *

A harsh buzzing sound woke me from a sound sleep; with a loud groan, I turned over and slammed the palm of my hand down on top of the alarm clock. That annoying and loud racket stopped instantly. Relieved, I turned over, pulling the covers over my head.

A few minutes later, I heard the "Steel Samurai" theme playing and I groaned with annoyance. Someone was calling me on my cell phone. I tried to ignore it as long as I could but, whoever it was on the other end, they weren't going to hang up anytime soon. Clearly, they were doggedly persistent if the sheer number of times it rang was any indication.

I reached blindly over to the night stand, my fingers scrabbling to find the cell phone that lay on top of it. I winced as I knocked a glass to the floor in the process, cursing softly as I heard it shatter on the tiles below. Once I had my cell phone firmly in hand, I dragged the phone underneath the covers, pressing the "Talk" button as I did so.

_This had _better_ be to tell me the house is on fire!!_

"Hello?" I mumbled groggily, silently cursing whoever it was for waking me up this early in the morning and being inadvertently responsible for the demise of my night table water glass.

_It was my favorite glass, too..._

"Nick!" the high pitched, excited voice of Maya Fey crackled over the air waves. I screamed loudly as the covers went flying across the room, my eardrums ringing painfully. I thrust the phone away from my ear as far as I could. "**NICK! NICK! NICK! NICK! NICK**! Wake up! **Wake up!"**

"All right, Maya!" I hollered back, the phone held at arm's length, scowling. "**I'm up**! What do you want?!" I glanced at the digital clock radio out of the corner of my eye. It read 6:45 AM. "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?! This had _better_ be good!"

"It is, Nick, I promise! It has to do with the case that we're..." She stopped talking suddenly. "Nick...why does your voice sound funny?"

"What do you mean by 'funny'?" I asked loudly, an edge to my voice, muttering uncharitable things under my breath. _One of these days, Maya, I swear I'm going to kill you. _"I think my voice sounds perfectly normal to me!"

I could practically hear the wince in her voice.

"Uh, sure... Nick," she said uncertainly, hesitation very plain in her tone. I felt rather sadistically glad about it at the time but I knew that I would regret it later.

I sighed._ That girl can be_ so _annoying sometimes. She means well but... _

"Now, what was so important that you had to wake me up at 6:45 in the morning to tell me?" I reiterated, bringing the phone back to my ear, returning to the topic at hand.

She seemed to bounce back immediately. "Oh! We found something at..."

_Where_ exactly_ does she find all this energy this early in the morning?_!

"'We?' " I interrupted, my tone laced with suspicion. "Who's 'we'?"

An exasperated sigh from the other end nettled me just the slightest bit. _Why_ was Maya the one who was annoyed with _me_ when_ I_ had every right to be annoyed with _her_ for waking me up so early?

_It's just damnably unfair, that's what it is._

As she chattered on, explaining how she, Ema and Detective Gumshoe had come across some new piece of evidence for the case I was currently working on, I reflected that there were times I didn't understand that girl... and this was one of those times.

_Go figure._

It was going to be a very long day.


	9. Interlude 1

_A/N: This story is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" in order not to confuse those who have read that story first. :)_  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_The second part of the story begins with a murder, love and obsession meeting with deadly consequences._ _A man who cannot let go of the one he loves and the woman wanting to be rid of him, no matter what the cost although the price she is expected to pay is one she doesn't anticipate: with her life.  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**  
_

This is the case in which Phoenix is currently working on: the murder of Amy Carstairs by her husband, Richard Carstairs, who has been arrested and charged with the crime. Chapter 9 deals with the time before, during and after the murder and chapter 10 will pick up the action that occurs the next morning, beginning with Phoenix getting out of bed. :)

I've tried to communicate Robert Boone's tangled thoughts and emotions in the piece as he goes from hope, to sadness, to rage, to murder, back to sadness, fear, horror over what he has done and then to an icy calm where he does his best to point the finger of guilt at Amy's husband. If it seems kind of disjointed and weird, that's the specifically the way I wrote it in order to have the window into Robert's mind before the confrontation, during the confrontation and the aftermath. Robert really_ isn't_ a very nice man-despite his age, he's tough as nails and very strong-and has a very bad habit of blaming others for his misfortune brought about, for the most part, by himself.

This will set the stage for the second half of the story. :)

As always, a **HUGE** "Thank You!" to all of my loyal readers, those who have read-and enjoyed!-my work and those who have favourited, alerted and reviewed my stories! I can't thank you all enough!

A **HUGE** "Thank You!" to my beta reader, ShadowSuzaku, for all her help in the production of this piece! I was stuck awhile ago but, thanks to her suggestions, I was able to get over that hurdle with ease! THANK YOU once again for your help and suggestions! Much appreciated! :)

Another **HUGE** "Thank You!" goes out to my husband, DezoPenguin, for his advice, love and help during the writing process! Thank You!

**I'd like to dedicate this chapter to ShadowSuzaku; DezoPenguin; all my loyal readers; Ricebaille (with a sincere apology) and Eli, with grateful thanks!**

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, yaoi, Phoenix & Edgeworth

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_Part 2: The Crime_

_The Night Before..._

_October 24th  
11 P.M.  
45 South Street_

_A pale slice of moon hung low in the sky, its feeble light shining dimly onto the large, lone figure below walking quickly down the street, his eyes taking in the surrounding area, darting nervously from side to side. It was almost as if he was expecting something to leap from the gathering shadows as the early evening twilight slowly faded into the black darkness of night. He pulled the collar of his black trench-coat closer together, shivering a little in the chilly air._

_Much to his chagrin, his palms were beginning to become increasingly sweaty; with a swipe of impatience, he wiped them against the pant leg of his jeans. He _had_ to be calm for the confrontation he knew was to come. He really had no idea how she would react and he needed to make sure that he kept the nervousness that was twisting and writhing in his lower belly firmly kept there, uncomfortable though it proved to be._

_He always had the problem of a sore stomach erupting whenever he was confronted with repugnant tasks and this was no different from the kinds of gut-wrenching decisions that he was forced to make, on a daily basis, at his workplace. _

_He sighed and gritted his teeth as he continued walking down the street, feeling the pent up fury inside him begin to rise again but he stamped it down by sheer force of will. Why did life have to be so damned difficult? He was fifty years old, for god's sake; why couldn't he, for a change, get a much needed break? It wasn't his fault that things didn't go his way! Surely, he couldn't be blamed for the disasters that had happened to him in the past!_

_He knew he couldn't afford to fail in his mission to make her see reason; he _had _to show her that they had nothing to gain, and everything to lose, by her breaking her twenty year silence. He couldn't imagine exactly what, or who, it was that had persuaded her to break the promise they had made all those years ago-although he thought he had a good idea as to the identity of the "who" in that equation-to never again speak of what had happened at the rock quarry that lost summer twenty years earlier._

_He breathed deeply, the biting air of the crisp October evening stinging his lungs but he barely gave it a passing thought as he followed the cobblestone sidewalk to the end of the block. As he walked, he went over what he was going to say to her in his head, repeating it over and over until he had committed it to memory. Not that memorization was really necessary since the words where coming from his heart, after all, but it never hurt to have something to fall back on in case things didn't go well. He hoped fervently that it would, though; it might be the second chance he was so desperately seeking in order to repair their fractured relationship and begin again with a clean slate._

_It was a bit of a long shot, certainly, but he was sure that he could bring her around, repair their quite fragmented relationship and pick up their lives where they left off twenty years before._

_That_ _Amy _might_ be upset at his sudden reappearance in her life was a distinct possibility, knowing her as he did, and it wasn't one he welcomed or relished. She hadn't changed a bit in all the time that he had known her, which was over thirty years now, and she was still just as fiery and feisty with a quick tongue and an even quicker temper as she had been all those years ago. _

_He chuckled a bit at the thought but, as he turned and slowly started to walk up the street leading to her home, he had to admit that it was one of the many things that had attracted him to her when they first met._

But, what if she...? _No, he couldn't allow himself to think like that. He was confident that they could repair the past and move forward into a bright future together. He had to think positively, he had to believe that everything would be all right._

Everything will be all right, Robert. Everything **will** be all right. Hold on to that and believe it. Everything will be all right. _He stopped and looked up at the moon, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, a wide smile gracing his face_. Everything will be all right. I_ know_ I can make her see reason, I _know_ I can...

11:20 P.M.

_It was with a spring in his step and lightness of heart that he walked the last few feet up to the driveway, turned to the right and followed the garden path to the iron-wrought gate that lead to the back door. His cheerfully optimistic mood lasted until he placed his hand on the lock and that moment was all that was needed to have terrible doubts invade his mind once again._

_He shook with the horrible thought that she really might not want to see him after what had happened all those years ago. He shook his head violently in an attempt to rid his head of such thoughts, failing miserably. For the first time that night, he was seriously doubting himself and his words; he was seriously considering just turning back._

_Amy might not be happy to see him and, after their messy breakup seven years ago, he couldn't really blame her for despising him, for wanting nothing more to do with him. He'd said some terrible things to her that had driven a huge wedge between them; she'd left him right after their last argument and never came back to the apartment they had once shared. Granted, he had searched diligently for her for many years but, almost as if she had planned on it, her precise whereabouts were a complete mystery. Until yesterday._

_It had come about completely by accident which, he had thought, was usually the way that these things seemed to happen. He'd run into her while he was having lunch at his favorite restaurant that afternoon and, although he'd been very happy to see her again she, on the other hand, was most certainly_ **not** _happy to see him. _

_He had half-expected that but it still wounded him deeply. He had managed, nonetheless, to convince her that they should talk and he even wrangled her home address before she walked out of the restaurant. He'd really been looking forward to this opportunity to explain things and make everything right all day long but, now that the appointed time was slowly creeping closer, he found himself wishing he hadn't made contact at all._

_It was a very strange feeling, to say the least, and where it had come from he couldn't quite figure out. He didn't know why he felt that way; he just did. There was something that was eating at him, an uneasy feeling that grew worse as the appointed hour approached and grew even more forceful now that he stood at the gate leading to the back yard, his hand clutching the lock like a drowning man._

_He quickly shook his head of the thoughts and chastised himself for feeling like such a coward. He'd come all this way and waited all these years to see her again, just so he could try and repair the past as much as he could and he certainly wasn't going to back away now, not this close to success!_

_Making up his mind to proceed then and there, he ignored the shrill voices in his head that were imploring him to turn back, that this was a bad idea and it would be a decision that he would come to regret. He unlatched the gate and quickly stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. _

_He immediately noticed that her garden flowers were in full bloom and a sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She was a first rate gardener and he remembered how proud she had been when she had entered, and won, her first floral competition. He wondered why all of this was coming back into his thoughts after all these years when he hadn't thought much about it, then or since. He supposed that it came back to mind because she was the one who meant the world to him; what mattered to her, he reasoned, mattered to him._

_He paused a moment to admire her flowers and then moved on, his shoes making grinding, clicking noises as he walked on the sandstone sidewalk that lead to the back door of the house. The porch light shown dimly in the milky darkness, giving the surrounding area an almost ethereal quality to it. _

_As he slowly made his way up the steps, he briefly wondered if this was all real, if he really was walking up the steps to the back door of the woman he'd loved and lost all those years ago. He had never stopped loving her; she was constantly in his thoughts._

Am I even in hers? What will she think? Will she listen to me or will she...?

_With trepidation, he stood on the top step of the porch, his feet unable or unwilling to move any further. He didn't know what to make of this or why he was feeling so odd since he normally had no flights of fancy and, if asked, he would have said that he lacked imagination, unkind though it sounded but it was nothing more than the plain truth. This was something entirely new for him and he didn't like it._

_Ignoring the shrill voices clamoring in his head, he lifted his curled fist and knocked sharply on the magnificently scrolled oak door. He held his breath for a moment or two, wondering if she would even answer; he had to face that possibility and his mood sank even lower, slowly swaying from one foot to another as he stood there._

_Time seemed to stand still as he held his breath, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Would she come to the door, knowing that he was standing there on the porch, waiting for her to answer? It seemed like an eternity before the door swung open and his breath caught as he looked at her, his eyes widening, his mouth dropping open with both surprise and appreciation. She was as lovely as he had remembered her, even more if that were at all possible. _

_His Helen. He had called her that, that long lost summer all those years ago. He calmly smiled at her._

"My Helen," _he said quietly, his face softening as he looked at her, taking a small step forward toward her, his large, strong hands reaching out toward her, _"you're still as beautiful as I remember." _He couldn't help himself; it just slipped out and, the moment it did, he knew it was a mistake by blotches of red that flared in her cheeks, her mouth turning down as she scowled at him._

_Robert swallowed hard, feeling his hope slowly beginning to dissipate, the churning feeling in his lower belly beginning to twist and turn, bile rising in his throat._

"Don't call me that, Robert!" _she snapped, placing her body half in and half out of the door, keeping one hand firmly curled around the side of the door, her violet eyes snapping sparks_."Tell me what you came to tell me and get the hell out of here!"

_His smile faded, his eyebrows knitting together threateningly causing her to gasp and pull back a little behind the door. He mentally scolded himself for such a rash action. He had to calm himself; if he didn't, he knew he would lose her forever and he hadn't come this far only to lose her again! He couldn't let that happen!_

"I've _only_ come to talk to you, Helen," _he replied, forcing a cheerfulness into his voice that he didn't feel, wincing as she shot him another dark look. _"That's all, I promise. I mean you _no_ harm."

_His fingers twitched as he struggled to meet her angry countenance, her stony face looking straight into his; he felt like he was being devoured as she stared at him, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. There was something there that frightened her although she didn't know exactly what that might be; she wanted to believe what he said but there was something in his words and mannerisms that nagged at her and that alone had put her on alert._

"All...right..." _she said hesitantly after a few moments of tense silence, reluctance crystal clear in her tone. _"I'll hear you out here." _Her face hardened. _"After you tell me what it is you came here to say, get out. I never want to see you again after tonight." _She noted the disappointed and hurt look on his face but ignored it. He wasn't going to snare her with emotional blackmail this time like he had so many times before in the past. "_Do I make myself clear?"

_His jaw tightened slightly, that sickly smile still plastered on his face._

"Perfectly."

X-x-X

_October 25th  
45 South Street  
Living Room  
2 A.M.  
_

_Music played in the quiet air, a loud, wailing lament from a saxophone breaking the silence violently._ _As he stood within the lonely house, Robert breathed heavily, wiping perspiration from his brow with a faded, dirty white handkerchief, his limbs trembling with both exertion and fear. He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, hopping from one foot to the other as he surveyed the circle of wreckage, swallowing hard. This was_ not _the way he had planned this evening to go at all! _

_He took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, reminding himself, once again, that _he _wasn't the one who had struck first: _she _had. He had merely been trying to defend himself and, if it had gotten a little out of hand-which, he had to admit, it had-it was her fault that events had escalated since she was the one who had started screaming_ _and he didn't understand why; he hadn't even been within touching distance of her at the time. When he had tried to calm her by taking a step toward her, whispering what he thought were soothing words, she had responded by screaming even louder and clapping her hands over her ears._

_He knew that he couldn't have let it go on for it would attract the attention of the neighbors, if it hadn't already and that was the last thing that he wanted or needed. He had grabbed her by the wrist and tried to hold her, hoping that she would calm down and, once she had, he hoped that she would come to her senses and listen to what he had to say._

_She had fought him with a desperation that surprised and unnerved him, her enraged yowls ringing in his ears. She had tried to disengage herself from his grasp, turning into a screaming, spitting cat who, after some desperate pulling and twisting, had managed to tear herself free and run into the kitchen. He followed her..._

_All of this came back to him as he stood there and looked down at the broken figure who lay at his feet.. the broken and very dead body of the woman he had come to see. As he looked down at her, he regarded her with a curious air of indifference, paying no more attention to the pitiful wreck of human flesh than if he had stepped on a bug and crushed it beneath his shoe._

_The living room was a complete and utter wreck with broken glass, splinters of furniture and cracked porcelain littering the floor in every direction, including the immediate area surrounding the body. _

_Robert ran his fingers nervously through his hair, hopping from one foot to the other as he surveyed the circle of wreckage, swallowing hard. This was definitely not the way he had planned this evening to go. He took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Losing his cool wouldn't be the best option right now; he needed a clear head in order to figure out how he could fix this mess._

_He'd felt a sting of annoyance that things were in such a mess but he consoled himself with the thought that it had been an unavoidable occurrence when she had fought so desperately to escape. He had to stop her, after all; she would have ruined everything he'd worked so hard for, the life that he had labored to rebuild in the aftermath of that night and he couldn't let that happen!_

_He sighed deeply as he looked down at her broken, still form, shaking his head somewhat sadly, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He was so upset that things had to go over like this. Given their past history together, he was certain that they could have worked things out to their mutual satisfaction._

_If only she had listened._

_He certainly hadn't come here tonight for the purpose of killing her. He wanted to talk with her, to try and reason with her that it was in their mutual best interests to keep quiet but she had refused to listen to him, bleating something about, "_It's best that I tell him everything that happened and go to the police. I can't keep this a secret anymore..."

_Cursed woman! That had stung him more than he had thought possible. After all these years, he still cared for her and wanted her back in his life but she had made it very clear that she didn't want him back in hers. The rage, so carefully thrust down deep inside him, bubbled over. He started shouting at her, cursing her and accusing her of betrayal. He had grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the living room, both of them shouting at the top of their voices._

_She struggled to get away and he held her even more tightly, shaking her as he shouted at her; ugly words born of hate and anger poured from his mouth. At some point in the struggle, she'd lashed out at him with her perfectly polished red nails, raking his face, four perfectly spaced scratches welled up on his pale skin, blood beading at the top of the wounds. _

_He still held her as he slowly lifted his right hand to his injuries, a look of complete surprise and disbelief on his face. It was almost as if he couldn't believe what she had done and, from the look on her face, neither could she._

_He didn't remember exactly what had happened after that for a blood red mist slowly enshrouded him, blocking out everything except the frightened and enraged woman who's wrist he tightly held. _

_Time seemed to slow down as he looked at her, his eyes blazing. She'd opened her mouth again-whether to scream or curse him he never knew-but no sound emerged since he'd rammed his fist right into her mouth, feeling the sides of her mouth split as it burrowed its inexorable way into her resisting, bleeding flesh._

_A feeling of power raced through his body as he punched her, overwhelming his senses until all that he was aware of was her muffled screams as his fist came to rest at the back of her mouth, torn flesh, both his and hers, commingling in a terrible crimson sheet. _

_He lost count of how many times he had hit her, the red mist blocking everything out except her cringing form in front of him. He was dimly aware of the sound of shattering porcelain, the splintering of wooden furniture and breaking glass somewhere outside of his consciousness but, at this moment, all he could think about was Amy. _

_He loved her, he really did, even though some of her blood had spattered on him as he punched her in the face, breaking her nose. He barely heard her muffled screams as he broke her arm and caved in her chest; her body twitching as it fell heavily to the floor in the middle of a wide circle of destruction; weak gasps of pain hissing through her destroyed mouth._

_Yes, he loved her, more than ever now as he was destroying her physical form; she would forever be locked into his memory as his Helen of Troy as he continued to pummel her with his fists and stomp on her chest with his feet until her twitching body lay still._

Amy...

_When at last the mist cleared, he was surprised to see himself standing in a wide circle of wreckage and, when he looked down, he saw a crumpled, lifeless form lying at his feet. It was his Helen... and she was very dead. _

_In stunned disbelief he shakily lifted his hand and was shocked to see bits and pieces of mangled flesh clinging onto his own bleeding skin, tiny rivulets of blood creeping down between the webs of his fingers. He cried out in horror, lifting his hand and bringing it close to his face._

"My God," _he mewled in terror, his eyes wide as they took in the full horror of the scene of destruction around him._ "What have I done?!"

_The click of an opening lock quickly snapped him from his trance. He could hear the door opening at the other side of the house and he knew that _**he** _was coming in, expecting to see Amy and have her greet him at the door. When she didn't, he knew it would be only a matter of time before he was __discovered; he couldn't allow himself to get caught! He had to find a way out of this!_

"Amy, I'm home!" T_he male voice, whom he knew to be Amy's husband Richard, called out cheerfully as he walked through the front door and closed it behind him. Robert listened carefully as he heard him walking into the kitchen, stopping in the foyer to, he assumed, hang up his coat and started making his way back through the kitchen to the living room._

_Robert broke out in a cold sweat as he heard the male's voice becoming louder, his footsteps inching ever closer. He had to distract him somehow for he knew that the game would be up the moment he stepped into the living room and saw what had transpired there. _

_He forcefully stamped down the panic that was rising in him and desperately looked around the room for the answer to the problem that was closing in. His desperate, searching eyes happened to glance over his shoulder and he saw a Tiffany lamp sitting serenely on the night table next to the window. How it had escaped destruction in their desperate fight he couldn't imagine but he was grateful that it had for it had given him a means to escape this situation. _

_Without a second thought or look at the crumpled, bloodied form lying at his feet, he quietly stepped over to the window, picked up the lamp and walked over to the arch that lead from the kitchen to the living room, standing quietly off to the side, hidden in the shadows of the room. _

_He waited._

"Amy?"

_The man never knew what hit him as he collapsed into an unconscious heap, his eyes wide open, a stunned and surprised expression on his face as he slowly sank to the floor. Robert smiled as he dragged the man to where the body of his wife lay, depositing him with a loud thump some inches away from her. He calmly reached down, took one of Richard's wrists and dipped his fingers in his wife's blood that was covering that small area of the room and wrote something on the destroyed coffee table._

_Once he was finished with his ghastly task, he dropped the unconscious man's wrist and stepped back, surveying his work. All was as it should be and he congratulated himself as he stood there_, _a nasty smile spreading over his face._

_He smiled and, without a word, turned and left the house with its secrets and ghosts._

Goodbye, Helen...


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: This story is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so as not to confuse those who have read that story first. :^)_

_Phoenix, sick with the flu, is at the crime scene. Horrific as it is, there's something wrong with it... a feeling that Detective Gumshoe also picks up on. Struggling to keep both his stomach intact and his legs from quaking, he is taken outside by Maya and Gumshoe for some fresh air and thinks he sees someone behind a tree, who disappears, a flash of magenta color trailing behind..._

Chapter 10 at last! :) The second half is now underway! Miles will be coming back shortly-in chapter 12-which will set the scene for one heck of a emotional meltdown! You can't blame Phoenix for that, either. Miles really shouldn't have disappeared like he did without telling Phoenix and I can understand why he did it but you can't blame Phoenix for being angry when he finds out. And he will.

**Thank you** to all my loyal readers, those who have commented and reviewed and also favourited and alerted. I appreciate it very much!

**Thank you** to my amazing beta, ShadowSuzaku! You've gone above and beyond the call of duty and I appreciate it immensely!

An extra special **Thank You** to my loving husband, DezoPenguin, for all his wonderful support, advice and helping me through the writing process so I wouldn't tear my hair out! I love you more than I can ever say and I really appreciate everything you do! I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have you and I love you!

I hope that you all enjoy this chapter and, as always, comments and suggestions are appreciated and welcomed! :)

Note: Rewritten slightly at the end since it conflicted with some events in chapter 11.

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Yaoi, Mature, Phoenix & Edgeworth

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_Later That Morning_

_October 25th  
8:15 A.M.  
Phoenix Wright's Home_

The alarm clock went off, a loud, irritating whine blasting me violently out of a sound sleep. I groaned in annoyance as I rolled over, slamming the palm of my hand down on top with a little more force than was necessary; thankfully, the irritating noise stopped immediately with what sounded like a metallic whine of protest.

I smirked, appreciating the advent of wonderful silence and burrowed gratefully underneath the covers once again although I did wish that the brass band, accompanied by a tympani, that was playing polka tunes in my head would stop.

I'd tried, with varying degrees of mixed success, to go back to sleep after Maya had called at six forty-five. I hadn't been able to fall back asleep until seven fifteen, sleepily assuming that the reason for this was the result from lack of sleep.

My brain felt like it was full of cotton and I felt like I was swimming underwater when I reached over to smack the alarm clock, the action itself feeling like I was moving in slow motion. Which might account for me hitting it harder than I really needed to in order to turn it off.

_That's the life of a defense attorney_, I thought to myself with some chagrin, rolling over onto my back, my arm slowly draping itself over my eyes, the corners of my mouth twitching. _You knew that going in when you made it your mission in life to save Mi-_

I cut off that thought hurriedly, trying to keep memories from surfacing but it was too late. Those beautifully haunting grey eyes came into view in my mind, that handsome face, the graceful, lithe body that had once given-and received-so much pleasure...

_Enough!_ I shook my head violently a few times to clear it until I was dizzy in an attempt to erase the images of Miles Edgeworth that had never completely left me, continuously invading my thoughts and dreams. My hands clenched into fists at both sides of my head. _I don't want to think about him! He's gone and that's the end of it! Leave me alone, damn you!_

To be honest, I often wondered _why_ I insisted on living in the same house that Miles and I had once shared together; surely, with the sheer number of memories connected with this place, one might expect that I would pack up and move elsewhere. The truth, as far as I could discern, was that I felt comfortable and at peace here; for that reason, among others that I either didn't quite understand and others I didn't want to admit, I continued to live here with the ghosts of happiness past.

_What a life. If you can call it_ that.

I groaned once again and began the slow, painful process of extricating myself from my warm bed, falling unceremoniously onto my back once again, my teeth gritted in frustration. It had become chillier in the mornings as the fall went on and stepping onto the black and white tiled floor was akin to stepping onto an iceberg so I made sure that I kept a pair of morning slippers next to the bed so I wouldn't have to step directly onto the floor.

With a loud grunt, I tried again, reluctantly pushing the comforter back, extricated myself after some minutes from the bed sheets and slowly sat up, stretching my cramped muscles as I did so. I rubbed my tired eyes and, after blinking a few times in order to clear my vision, proceeded to drag my almost lifeless body up and out of the comfort of my bed.

Stepping slowly into my slippers, I stood up and stretched, nearly falling over as a wave of dizziness passed over me. I clutched the corner of the night-table in shaking hands and waited for it to pass. Once the room had stopped spinning and I was sure that I could walk without falling over, I slowly shuffled toward the bathroom to take a shower and brush my teeth.

As I stepped into the bathroom, I could have sworn that I heard something; try as I might, I couldn't hear anything in the deafening silence so I shrugged it off as nothing more than a figment of my imagination and proceeded to turn on the shower.

_Strange_, I thought muzzily as I stepped underneath the now warm stream of water, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I felt it gently cascading over my face. _I could have sworn that I heard something_. I cocked my head slowly to the right and listening hard. There was complete and utter silence, the only sound being water running out of the shower head.

I listened again for a few moments afterward and, hearing nothing out of the ordinary, shakily reached for the bottle of shampoo, opening the cap with some difficulty, squeezing some onto the palm of my hand and began washing my hair. _Huh. Must be my imagination playing tricks on me again although...this has been happening pretty regularly over the past two years._

I silently wondered what it could have been as I reached for the bar of soap lying on the shelf, turned it over and over in my hand and slowly ran the soap up and down across my body, chewing on my lower lip thoughtfully. _It's probably nothing and I'm chasing chimeras again. It wouldn't be the first time. _I grimaced in distaste. _Nor the last._

Dark thoughts swirled in my mind as I finished showering, hurriedly dressing and only managing to take a couple of bites from a Fuji apple before a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm me. I sighed as I slowly stood and walked over to the garbage can, dropping the apple into it, wincing at the loud banging noise it made when it connected with the bottom.

_Great_, I thought with annoyance, leaning against the kitchen cabinet in order to steady myself as another wave of dizziness hit me like a ton of bricks, nearly bringing me to my knees. _This is just great! Not only do I have a case pending in two days time but I'm also coming down with something! What's next, pneumonia?!_

I raised a shaky hand to wipe the cold sweat that was beading on my forehead and inwardly cursed the fates once again for their distinctly lousy sense of timing.

_God, why today of all days?! Why couldn't I have gotten sick last month?! I do _not _need this right now!_

I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling as additional beads of sweat dotted my forehead and trying to quell the nausea I could feel beginning to build inside, my stomach twitching and heaving. The timing couldn't possibly have been any worse but I had a job to do and I had to do it, no matter how awful I felt.

_It really sucks to be me sometimes..._

On that less than cheerful note, I exited through the kitchen door and made my way, on quaking legs, to the bus stop to take me to 45 South Street, the crime scene. I only hoped that I could make it there without incident for, as I paid my fare and slowly sat down, I knew what awaited me. And it wasn't pretty.

_---------------------------------------------------------------------_

_October 25th  
9:59 A.M.  
45 South Street  
Living Room_

I drew in a deep breath, my nose twitching as I slowly stood upright, trying to keep my heaving stomach from emptying its contents all over the floor, not that there was much of anything in it.

The sickeningly sweet coppery smell of blood began overtaking my senses; I pressed the back of my right hand over my mouth when I could feel the lurch of my insides becoming more pronounced. I turned away, the horrific sight in front of me becoming too much to bear.

_I need to get out of here as soon as I can_, I thought morosely as Detective Gumshoe and the other police officers were busy scanning the room for clues. _The last thing I want to do is to throw up all over the good detective's shoes._ I swallowed hard as another wave of nausea threatened to engulf me but, as luck would have it, I was still able to fend of the attack.

_Thank God..._

With my stomach now settled, at least for the present, I turned and looked at the room I was standing in which was the crime scene The crime itself was a most horrific one, evidenced by the crimson, gory patterns splattered over all four walls of the room. Blood was everywhere: on the furniture, on the walls, all over the floor and even on the far door.

Whoever had committed this atrocity had to have been either mad or in a blind rage; the level of violence apparent in this room was much more than I had previously come across in any of my other cases. Until now.

I was suddenly aware of Maya's presence as I heard her sharp intake of breath and felt her shaking fingers on my arm as she tried to steady herself. I turned my head to make sure she was all right, placing my hand over hers briefly, giving it a comforting squeeze.

She gave me a grateful look which I acknowledged with a brief nod before removing my hand from hers and turning my attention back to the crime scene.

The badly beaten corpse lay in the middle of a circle of wreckage three feet in diameter with splintered furniture, crumpled papers, books, broken porcelain figurines strewn around and pieces of glass from a broken wall mirror where in and around the body. It looked like there had been one hell of a fight, the victim fighting desperately for her life before being overcome and beaten to death and, as I peered down at the broken body lying at my feet and tried to keep from heaving, I couldn't discern as of yet what the murder weapon had been.

_That should come in time_, I thought grimly, tearing my eyes from the pitiful corpse and taking in the rest of the room, noting where furniture stood or, referring to the broken bits of furniture littering the floor, had stood until now, what had been knocked over in the desperate fight and also what remained in place.

My mind was working as my eyes scanned the room, mentally recording all of the details, trying to quell both the nausea that was still threatening to burst forth and sadness at the life that had been so brutally extinguished here.

I was so lost in thought that I nearly jumped a foot when Maya gently touched my arm in a gesture of comfort. She had obviously seen the warring emotions on my face and had wished to comfort me but, until her touch, I had been so caught up in what I was doing that I had forgotten that she was even present in the room. I cursed slightly as I attempted to slow my gasping breath along with my heart pounding fiercely in my chest.

_I wish she'd learn to make a little more noise when she sneaks up on someone! _I thought grumpily as I struggled to compose my rattled nerves, giving her an icy look while she made haste to apologize. _She should know better than to do that, especially at a crime scene!_

After my heart had taken it's usual place in my chest from its visit to my throat and my legs stopped quaking, I focused my attention back at the crime scene.

Something felt very wrong about all this but I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what or where that uneasiness was. This bothered me greatly since I had a client to defend; I wished I could figure out what was bugging me about all of this since the feeling of _wrong_ grew stronger the more I looked around me.

"Nick?" I barely heard Maya's squeamish voice pipe in at my elbow; my eyes still unfocused and unseeing, my mind a million miles away but moving quickly in order to process information. It wasn't until I felt another irresistible pull at my jacket sleeve that I was even aware that someone was standing next to me and it took me a little while longer to realize who it was.

"Hmmm?" I murmured absently, my thumb resting on my jaw and my index finger resting against my lips, deep in thought. "What is it?"

Her eyebrow raised as she bent over and, with hands on hips, stared directly into my eyes, her tightly compressed lips twitching at the corners, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Niiiiiick..." she sing songed, reaching out and waving her left hand in front of my face. "You there, Nick?" She frowned. " Niiiiiick....Niiiiick... **HEY**, **NICK**!"

Unbeknownst to either of us at the time, we were collecting some curious policemen into a circle around us, some watching with undisguised amusement, others with disgust. I continued to lose myself in thought and Maya continued yelling my name and waving her hand in front of my face. It was starting to cut into my thought processes with a vengeance and, now that I was aware of it, I found it extremely annoying and wished that she would stop doing it.

Aside from that, she was calling unwanted attention to us and that was the last thing that I wanted at this point in the investigation. I tried ignoring her as long as I could but it all came to a head a few minutes later when I couldn't ignore the piercingly high voice any longer.

"**WHAT**?" I hollered back, my increasingly annoyance in Maya's rising tone and the fluttering hand movements in front of my face boiling over. With a surprised squeak, she jumped backward a few steps, her hand flying upwards to cover her mouth.

An uproar of whispers and murmurs filled my ears, causing me to glance around in confusion into the definitely not amused faces of some of the policemen that surrounded us. I felt my face turn three shades of red and, as I turned to face her, I gave Maya the gimlet eye, wishing my erstwhile assistant to the bottom of South Bay.

Just when I was wishing I could just crawl under one of the many piles of debris and just disappear for the rest of eternity, a great booming voice rang out across the room.

"Hey!"

The policemen jumped to quick attention at the sound as Detective Gumshoe marched over to where we were standing.

_Thank you, Detective Gumshoe!_

Detective Gumshoe glared at the policemen.

"What are you doing standing around?" he demanded, looking at the nearest police officer straight in the eye, the man quailing underneath that cold gaze. "You all have a job to do so why don't you get to it?"

"Sir!" they responded, a tad shakily as they quickly saluted and scattered. It seemed to me, as I watched them disperse, that they were glad to be free of Gumshoe's glare and looked relieved as they exited the living room in different directions.

Gumshoe watched them go and, when he turned back to me, he had a glum look on his face.

"What's the matter, Detective?" I asked with concern since the usually amiable detective looked so drawn and serious. "You don't look very happy."

"I'm not," he admitted, lifting his hand and scratching the back of his head absently.

"Would it be amiss of me to ask why?"

"There's something that just doesn't... feel right about this crime scene, pal," Gumshoe began, his brow furrowing. "It's all wrong but I don't know _why_ and it's really bothering me."

I nodded in agreement. I could well understand that sentiment since I shared the exact same feeling as the good detective did.

"I know what you mean; it feels wrong to me, as well, and I don't really understand why, either." I looked around the crime scene again, feeling my stomach give a sharp lurch and my face paling to the color of skimmed milk. "Something just feels wrong."

Gumshoe looked at me sympathetically.

"You don't look too good," he said, walking over to me and standing next to me, his craggy face mirroring concern. "Are you sure you should even be here? Shouldn't you be in bed resting?"

"I need to be here," I replied, with a bravado I didn't feel, my face paling again. "My client stands trial in two days and I need to find out what it is that feels so wrong about this crime scene." I shook my head to clear it. "I just wish I knew what that _something_ was." I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my neck and flinched when I realized what I was doing.

Gumshoe nodded.

"I'll help you all I can," he promised, turning to a police officer standing beside him and telling him sharply to go over and give assistance to the coroner since she was short one assistant due to the flu this evening. The officer saluted and, with a grateful nod toward me for the momentary distraction, scampered off.

"Rookies," he said simply, shrugging his big shoulders offhandedly, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What can you do?"

I shrugged but managed a small smile. We were all rookies, once, and I felt like reminding the good detective of that but held my peace, my thoughts drifting away from the crime scene into much more pleasant areas.

I turned and looked out the window, watching the leaves dancing past the window as the wind blew them along. My eyes glazed over as I watched them, being drawn deeper and deeper into their hypnotizing dance, my lips slightly parting, my breathing starting to quicken.

It brought back those plaguing memories and I no longer tried to keep them back but let them have free reign. I felt like I was being drawn down into a swirling vortex of vibrant colors and I closed my eyes, reaching out my hand slowly.

_Miles..._

My eyes shot open, my mouth working but no clear words emerged, only a strangled gasp. Gumshoe and Maya, upon hearing me gasp, knew instantly that something was wrong and raced to my side, Maya standing beside me on my left while Gumshoe hovered at my elbow on my right, identical expressions of concern on both of their faces.

"Nick, are you ok?" Maya asked, concern and worry layered thickly in her words, calling to one of the nearest police officers to run and get a glass of water.

"Yeah, pal, you ok?" Gumshoe echoed, his brow creased with worry, looking at me critically, his eyebrow slightly raised. "You don't look so good."

_What a keen observation, Detective_, I thought sourly, feeling my stomach lurch again as I broke out in a cold sweat, my legs feeling like rubber. _I _don't _feel very good!_

"Man, I really wish Mr. Edge..." Gumshoe began but stopped when he saw the look of fury spread over my face.

"Don't mention _that_ name in my presence!" I spat, twisting angrily in his grasp. "I don't want to hear it!"

Maya jumped in surprise and Gumshoe had the look of a stunned sheep at the level of vehemence in my voice, his pale face becoming even paler, crimson blotches showing in his cheeks as my blue eyes glared directly into his.

"But, Nick..." Maya began uncertainly, wrapping her arm around my own to give me added support. "He-"

"I said, never mention that name in my presence again!" I snarled, cutting her off ruthlessly. I knew what she was going to say and I didn't want to hear it. "How many times do I have to say it?! Don't ever mention that name to me again!"

All the fight drained out of me in that instant and, my anger spent, I sagged in their arms, my lips trembling and my eyes watering. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of me and the passing years hadn't really done much to help heal the wound but, at least on some level now, I could deal with it. I wouldn't dwell on it or the past any longer and I was determined to continue to do so.

_He's dead to me... as I was to him._ I clenched my mouth shut as another lurch nearly sent me to my knees. _Let this be the end of it here._

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as I felt Gumshoe and Maya gently and slowly walk me out of the house, leading me to an iron bench in the backyard garden and insisting that I sit. I was too tired and dejected to argue and did what I was told.

After some moments of awkward silence, Gumshoe spoke.

"I'm sorry, pal," he apologized, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I...wasn't thinking. I'm sorry that I upset you."

_He didn't deserve that_, I thought despondently, waving off both Gumshoe's apologies and Maya's offers of help with an impatient gesture. _Neither of them did. I wish I knew _what _was bugging me so much about all of this. _

I covered my face in my hands, lowering my head until my elbows touched my knees, hoping that my stomach would stop churning. _It's not only the crime scene that's bothering me but I don't know why the other thing should. He's gone and that's the end of it. So why is it getting to me so much today? Is it just a case of the crime scene getting under my skin because I'm not feeling well or is it something else?_

I didn't have the answer to any of my questions and, as my head sank lower, I doubted that I would at this point.

_Why do I even bother? I'll never be free of him no matter what I do so why am I even trying? _I sighed_. Life just isn't going to get any better in the near to immediate future and I just have to accept that. _I looked up at the blue sky above me, my brow furrowing as I watched the fluffy, white clouds dancing across the immense blueness. _As hard as it may be._

I couldn't understand why I was feeling so low and why thoughts of _him_ kept invading my mind and dreams; I wished, as I looked upward at the beautiful blue above me with my fingers entwined together and lying tensely still on my lap, that _he_ would stay out of my head and leave me in peace.

It was nearly three years to the day since I received that note**-Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death-**and, try as I might, I couldn't get those awful words out of my mind. It returned time after time to dog my waking hours and haunted me in my nightmares at night.

I felt tears prick behind my eyelids and I tried hard not to let them fall but I lost that fight, feeling the slow trickle as they silently fell down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands and wept, oblivious to my two friends who stood on either side of me, trying to comfort me the best they could.

I looked up slowly, my heart constricting in pain that I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out, my soul in mortal agony. A subtle movement caught my eye and, when I looked over to the tree on the corner, I thought I saw someone standing there. My eyes widened considerably when I caught the faint glimmer of magenta before the figure turned and vanished, almost as if the person knew I was watching. I half rose from the bench, startling both Maya and Gumshoe who immediately looked over in the direction that my wide-eyed stare was focused, exchanging worried glances.

"Nick?" Maya asked as I tried to stand, my legs quaking violently beneath me and I had to lean on her in order to stand, struggling fruitlessly to free myself from her grip which immediately tightened. "What's wrong? What are you looking at?"

I licked my lips nervously, my gaze fixed on the tree, my limbs trembling violently.

"I...I...I... _thought_...I saw someone...standing behind the tree," I stammered, cursing myself for how desperate my tone sounded. "I...I... _thought_...that it was... was... Mi-Mi-Miles..."

Maya frowned and looked at the tree, her eyes narrowing slightly, her lips pursing. I looked up at her and then followed her gaze to the tree where I saw... nothing. There wasn't anything or anyone there.

"There isn't anyone there, Nick," she said gently, her cool hand tenderly smoothing my hot and sweaty brow, Gumshoe nodding in silent agreement as he stood on the other of me, his face drawn but sympathetic.

I struggled feebly in her grasp, trying with a will to stand up and walk over to the tree to see for myself but she was able to hold me down with a little help from the good detective.

"There _has_ to be!" I insisted loudly, my eyes swimming with unshed tears, my voice loud and desperate. "I _saw_ him! I _saw_ him–he _was_ there! I know he was! There is _no_ way I could mistake that flash of magenta shortly before he disappeared!" I looked imploringly at them but they couldn't look at me. "You _have_ to believe me! I saw him; it couldn't have been anyone else!"

A tense silence reigned for a few moments, Maya and Gumshoe exchanging pitying glances.

"No, Nick," Maya said at last, when the silence had become too much to bear and gave me a sympathetic look, her eyes clouded and troubled. "There _isn't_ anyone there." She looked very unhappy but did her best to hide it. "You're sick and your mind is playing tricks on you."

I looked desperately at Gumshoe who slowly shook his head.

"I didn't see anyone, pal," he said slowly, his hand scratching the back of his neck absentmindedly while I mewled in pain, swallowing hard, teetering on my feet while Maya quickly helped me to sit down before I fell over. "Sorry."

I hung my head, my lips moving sorrowfully, repeating over and over, my voice hard and unhappy, "I _saw_ him. I know I _saw_ him. It _was_ him... it couldn't have been anyone else. He was my life... It ... _was_ him, I _know_ it _was_..."

Maya and Gumshoe could say nothing in reply and did the only thing they really could do at this point, to just be there for me, and it was Gumshoe who took me home later on to make sure I got some rest.

"You can come back to the crime scene tomorrow when you feel a bit better," he'd said firmly as he waited for the kettle to boil to make me some Neo-Citrin, his tone making it clear that this _wasn't_ up for discussion. "Take it easy and rest; you're no good to anyone this sick."

He handed me the steaming mug without another word and I took it, draining it quickly, relishing the hot, fragrant citrus flavor as it coursed down my throat, warming me considerably. He helped me walk to my bedroom and helped me settle into bed, tucking me in and drawing the comforter up to my chin.

I gave him a sleepy half-smile as he straightened up to leave.

"Thank you, Detective," I said softly, looking at Gumshoe through half-slitted, sleepy eyes.

"You're welcome," he replied and smiled at me. "You just rest today and get better. You can come back to the crime scene when you feel up to it and do what you need to do then. I'll have the autopsy report ready for you as well so don't forget to stop by the station."

I nodded in agreement and he took his leave a few minutes later, closing the door quietly behind him. With a final glance at the drawn curtains that hung in graceful folds beside the window and thinking about the encounter I'd had earlier, I drifted softly into a sound sleep, blissfully unaware that a pair of sad grey eyes were watching me from outside, a hand pressed gently against the pane of glass.

_Phoenix..._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: This story is not connected with "All's Fair In Love And War" for those who might have read that story first. :) _

_**This chapter has been rewritten with some new things being added and others changed or reworked. It's longer than the original chapter with the changes, omissions and new additions and is, in effect, a new chapter.**_

Miles has returned and all hell is going to break loose in chapter 13 when Phoenix finds out. [Note: Miles' and Phoenix's inner voices are enclosed in : as Mercedes Lackey does in her Valdemar novels.]

Thanks to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

Special thanks to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! Hope you enjoy the new, revised chapter! :)

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth

* * *

_The man stood off a little to the right, carefully hidden behind_ _the large tree that stood in the front yard of the house closest to the curb. He watched the man in front of him breaking down and crying, his shoulders shaking violently as the storm in him finally found release._

_He stepped back quickly, his lips trembling, his hands clenching into fists, with his heart hammering double-time in his chest. He felt the man's deep set grief and ache as if it were his own, envying the other man's ability to let his emotions free and find release whereas he preferred to keep them bottled up and under control. _

Control... _he thought, his lip twisting with distaste. _Is it _really_ worth all of the pain that I've caused to both myself... and _him_?

_If he was honest with himself, and something he didn't really wish to explore at this point in time, he would have to admit that _he _was the cause of this man's pain and deep-seated anguish. Hadn't _he _been the one who left without a word? Did he recall what_ he _had left behind? _

_He hadn't thought that it would have caused him as much pain as it did but was that really true? He_ knew _it would hurt; there was no way he could deny it. Regret washed over him in a raging tide, long buried feelings once again rising to the surface. How could he make it up to him, who had suffered so much? Would he even let him explain why he had done what he had?_ _Maybe he would although it was much more likely that he wouldn't and he had to face the fact that he might never forgive him for what he had done. _

_He would accept that as a just punishment-one he thoroughly deserved, truth be known-if it came down to it but he hoped with all of his heart that it wouldn't. He wanted to make things right with him again-he owed him that much, at least-and he missed him; it had surprised him when he realized just _how _much he had missed him and this fact was disquieting._

Who am I trying to fool? _he thought, regret spreading through him, clenching his left hand into a fist as he looked down at the ground._ It was _my_ fault in the first place; I have no one to blame but myself. _He slowly looked up at the sky, his thoughts racing over one another, tumbling over one another aimlessly in the corridor of his mind. _I and I alone am responsible for my actions; I can only hope that he will be able to forgive me for what I've done since I'm not sure _I_ can forgive myself.

_With a deep sigh, he lowered his head and looked upon the sobbing man on the bench, a mixture of __compassion and agony gracing his handsome face, his heart breaking as he saw the man he loved more than anyone in the world dissolve into grief at_ his _supposed death._ _How could he ever attempt to explain the inexplicable when he really wasn't certain himself what the _real _truth behind the reason for his disappearance was?_

_He had his reasons although he really wasn't sure that any of them were either very good or wholly unselfish ones and he couldn't table them as such in that category. _

_He had lived with the regret of what he had done for nearly three years; he wondered how he was able to live with it this long and shied away from the harsh answer that his mind flung back at him. _Because you wanted it this way. You _didn't_ trust him, you _didn't_ trust his love; you let fear overcome your basic common sense-_he winced_-and you ran away from your life, your career and _him_. You're a fool, Miles Edgeworth; you always have been a fool and you always will be.

_His internal voice's next words dripped with undisguised venom. _**:Why are you here, skulking around behind a tree when you** _should_ **be ove**r _there _**comforting** _him_! **He doesn't look at all well.:**

_Miles' face flushed a dirty red at that last volley_, _his jaw tightening, his hands clenching into angry fists; he took a deep breath to tell his interfering_ _internal voice that he most certainly was _**NOT **_skulking _anywhere_, behind a tree or otherwise! He really didn't appreciate that tone but, as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, he snapped it shut again, shame flowing over him._

_He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, feeling the unmistakable sting of tears beginning to well up behind his closed lids, swallowing hard. He couldn't argue with what the voice had said, unkind and harsh as it may have been, it was nothing more than the brutal, honest truth._

_He had abandoned the one he'd loved because he was afraid. In those terrible days following the conclusion and resolution of SL-9, he'd been buffeted by unsettling feelings: fear, sorrow and self-loathing combining in an overwhelming wave that had crashed into his open wounds and the resulting maelstrom had sent him reeling. _

_He'd reacted almost instinctively in his flight from the world he knew and the person he loved but he couldn't think clearly or logically with the emotional storm that had broken with such violence within him at that point in time. He'd been in too much psychic pain for anything else to really register in his conscious mind._

_He'd run, as far away and as fast as he could, not stopping to think how his actions might affect his lover or even the possibility that he might be hurt by his disappearing without a word. What had he honestly expected to happen: Phoenix rejecting him after he left and going on with his life sans Miles? _

_Did he honestly, in his heart of hearts, expect Phoenix to_ _write him off and out of his life on little more than out of sight, out of mind? Maybe on some level he did but, as he thought of it now, he reflected on how much of a fool he was for even thinking it in the first place. Phoenix _wasn't _like that and he knew it given that Phoenix had changed his life plans and had become a lawyer in order to save him from himself. _

_How could he, in all good conscience, ever expect Phoenix to do something as heart-wrenching as writing him out of his life completely when the man simply didn't have it in him?_

_No, if there was someone who was wrong on all counts, it was Miles himself. He acknowledged this, cursing himself repeatedly over the past three years for being such a fool for throwing everything he had away, especially Phoenix. _

_How could he ever hope to atone for that? How could he expect Phoenix to forgive him when Miles couldn't even forgive himself for abandoning him? The reasons for his leaving, that seemed so important then, really weren't when he looked at them in the cold light of logic he'd once been so proud of._

_Miles slowly lowered his head, trying very hard not to let the tears he could feel welling up in his eyes fall down his face. He could feel hurt, regret and nostalgia twisting together in his gut, a sour taste in his mouth that wouldn't go away, no matter how many times he tried._

_He had been a fool... and now he was alone. No matter how many times he had tried to convince himself otherwise-and he had over the years-he knew that he was at fault. He'd been a coward and ran from his life, from his past but, most of all, from Phoenix. _

_He'd visited him every night for the past week while he was at home sick with the flu, watching him through the window that looked into the bedroom, pressing his hand against the glass. It gave him some measure of comfort, at least, that he could watch over his sleeping lover from outside but he couldn't erase that desperate longing within, all the while wishing that he could be in the room with him._

_Tears sprang to his eyes as he leaned his forehead against the branches, his fingers tightening around the flaking bark, small bits of wood slowly drifting to the ground._

I was wrong, Phoenix... Oh god, _how _I was wrong! And there's _nothing_ I can do to make it up to you. How I wish I could... how I _wish _I could!

**:It's too late for that, Miles. And** _you're_ **the one who's going to have to live with it for the rest of **_your_ **life.:**

_He winced but couldn't deny the truth of that statement, his hands curling into fists once again._

Never_, he thought bitterly as he turned to leave, his heart in raging turmoil, _were truer words _ever_ spoken.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_A few days later..._

_November 1st  
Phoenix Wright's residence  
9 A.M._

I woke the next morning to my clock radio blaring The Police's "King of Pain" with a-thankfully-less pounding head and a settled, though hungry and complaining, stomach. I blinked drowsily until I realized that I was in _my_ own bed, in _my_ own room and began to relax, chuckling quietly to myself.

_It's a good thing that there isn't anything breakable close by... _I thought with some embarrassment. _I'd go broke trying to replace it all!_

I turned over, laying my arm across my eyes and lay still for a few minutes, letting the music wash over me, wrapped very comfortably in the comforter. Once it had finished, I rolled over onto my left side and pushed the snooze button, sinking back down underneath the thick comforter with a happy sigh.

I definitely felt much better than I had the previous week although my eyes felt like they were gummed together; I struggled to open them, my knuckles rubbing them to try and get rid of whatever gunk was blocking my vision.

A few minutes later, I managed to clear it enough that I could see, blinking a few times to clear anything else that still remained and I was quite relieved when the walls in the bedroom slowly came into focus.

_Well, at least I don't have to add "going blind" to my list of worries... I've enough of them as it is. _I sighed, burrowing further under the covers, trying to ignore that stab of pain that, although it wasn't nearly as sharp as it used to be, still hurt even now three years after the fact.

I tried to push away the pain and sorrow that always came calling at this time of year but I had no more success now than I had in the first two years after he died. My heart ached for the one I loved and he was gone. No matter how many times I tried to tell myself that, it never really seemed to work.

Turning over, I buried my face in the large pillow, my shaking fingers gripping the sides of the pillow, trying to get a hold of my racing emotions. I didn't want to break down and cry; I didn't have any tears left... or so I thought.

I was surprised to feel my eyes welling up and there was nothing I could do to stop it; they slipped silently down my cheeks like rain, a choking sob torn from my throat as I cried bitter tears, despair raging through me like a tidal wave.

Questions pummeled me: Would I ever be free of this grief that never quite left me? Would I ever be free of the memory of Miles? I supposed I would be when I no longer shed tears of any kind for him but that seemed like an impossible dream at best.

It didn't matter how many years had passed since he'd died: the pain was always there at this time of year, as fresh and raw as if his death had happened only yesterday.

It still hurt even after all these years and, as I took a deep breath in order to try and regain some matter of control over my warring emotions, I doubted that I would _ever_ stop grieving for Miles Edgeworth. Just the same, I knew that I had to get a grip and spent the next fifteen minutes doing just that until I had managed to regain some visage of control. I lay there for some time, my face pressed into the tear-soaked pillow, my heart in turmoil. If someone would have said to me six years earlier that I would be tearing my heart out over Miles Edgeworth, I would have thought that they were crazy.

I groaned and pressed my face deeper into the pillow, berating myself in my mind. _Stop it! Just let it go! There's _nothing _you can do to bring him back! _

_I_ squeezed the ends of the pillow until my knuckles turned white, feeling that hard-won peace start to slowly slip away and I fought with all my might to bring it back. _Why do you keep on grieving for_ him? _He obviously didn't love you if he took his own life, knowing full well just _how _much it would hurt _you.

_The truth_ really _hurts sometimes_, I mused as I got out of bed and dressed in silence. I went over to the window to draw the open drapes and gasped in surprise when I saw the hand print left on the window glass. It was faded, like it had been there for some time.

My brows furrowed, my hands beginning to tremble although I wasn't really sure why. _That's odd_, I thought, my brow creasing as I leaned in closer to get a better look, _this wasn't here last night! I wonder who could have put it there? _

I shivered slightly as I stood up, a cold chill running down my spine, looking at the hand print with trepidation. _Who's could it be? Who left it there... and why?_

I didn't like questions without any answers, particularly when they began and ended at _my_ window. I stood there for a few more minutes before shrugging uneasily and turning away, adding yet another mystery to be resolved when I had the time to do so on top of so many now, I had a client to defend and anything else would have to wait as a consequence.

I took a deep breath as I walked out the door, turning the key in the lock, turning and looking at the yard; seeing no movement of any kind, human or otherwise, I nodded with satisfaction and started down the stone steps. I went over the case file in my head as I did so and wondered how we were going to resolve the apparent disconnect between my gut feeling and the evidence that the police had collected.

My thoughts tumbled over one another as I waited for the bus to arrive to take me to the police station and during the forty-five minute trip. I hadn't the slightest idea how I was to form a defence when, to all intents and purposes, Mr. Carstairs, my client, looked _very_ guilty, indeed, if what the good detective and I had discussed earlier was any indication.

_The first thing I'm going to do once I get there is talk to Detective Gumshoe, find out what they have and then talk to my client and see where we go from there._ I sighed loudly. _And if my gut feeling is correct or not as to his innocence._

It was going to be a _very_ long day.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

_10:45 A.M.  
Police Headquarters  
Downtown Los Angeles_

As I walked into police headquarters later that morning in search of Detective Gumshoe to get the autopsy report from him, I reflected that it had been awhile since I'd been here last. It still looked the same but, at the same time, it was different somehow but I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly _why_.

I shrugged and continued on my way, nodding a greeting at police officers and employees alike who stopped to greet me, giving their sincerest condolences. My face tightened but I answered them with a wan smile and thanked them for their kindness before moving quickly on. I knew that they meant well but I didn't want to break down in front of them; I preferred to do my grieving in private, away from the world's view.

I knew they meant well but it was hard when my heart was hurting so much. I dreaded this time every year when the anniversary of Miles' death came around although my heartache began at least three months before with the dread increasing until the actual anniversary, leaving me an emotional wreck for a week or so afterward.

_They say that "_time heals all wounds,_"_ I reflected as I strode through the warren of offices, _they obviously didn't bother to check with me first._ _I could have, very easily, disabused them of such a ridiculous and trite notion._

**:Bitter today, aren't we?: **

I ignored the snarky voice at the back of my head as I took a left at the end of the hall, walking over to the door that had "Detective Richard Gumshoe" printed in thick, black block letters on the window. I lifted my curled hand and rapped at the door lightly with my knuckles, walking in when I heard him call out.

Gumshoe looked up from some papers that he was currently engrossed in, his lips curving into a welcoming smile.

"Morning, pal," he said pleasantly, standing up and coming over to where I stood, shaking my hand enthusiastically. "How're you feeling today?"

"Better than I was," I said honestly and sidestepped his query of how I was doing otherwise, "thank you. I _really_ appreciate what you did for me the other day and I wanted to thank you for looking out for me."

He waved my thanks away with a bright smile. "No problem, pal. It was the least I could do."

We stood in silence for a few moments before he broke it by turning around and picking up a file which he handed to me which I took from him, thanked him and opened it quickly, thumbing through the various pages until I came to the autopsy report right in the middle of the sheaf of papers.

I quickly scanned it, my eyebrow raising slightly. Gumshoe leaned against the edge of his desk, his arms folded across his chest, watching me in silence. When I turned with some surprise to look at him, he merely nodded.

"Something's _really_ screwy here, pal," he said, unfolding his arms, his right hand scratching the back of his neck perplexedly, "and, I don't mind tellin' you, it _bugs_ me."

I nodded in agreement. "I know. It bothers me, too." I put down the autopsy report with a sigh, rubbing my eyes tiredly with my fingers. "The problem is that I don't know, exactly, _what_ it is that feels so wrong about all of this." I looked away for a moment. "I only know that something is but, without definitive proof, my hands are tied."

_Not to mention that my client looks even guiltier._

Gumshoe nodded sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. I looked at him gratefully; of all people, he understood what I was going through and I found his presence to be a comforting one.

"Anyway," I continued a few moments later after the silence became too long to bear, "I'll have another look at this autopsy report later on today"-I looked at my watch-"since I have to go meet my client in a few minutes to talk to him and hear his side of the story." I sighed as I flipped the manila envelope shut.

Gumshoe nodded. "It looks real bad for him right now, pal," he remarked as I nodded in agreement, "and... it seems all the evidence points to him and that makes him look even guiltier."

_My thoughts exactly._

"I know but..."

"You don't believe he's guilty."

I shook my head. "No, I don't. I _can't _explain why but my gut tells me that he's innocent." I thought a moment. "That and the fact that this doesn't feel right convinces me that he probably blundered into it _after_ the fact and _isn't_ involved directly."

Gumshoe nodded in reply and I changed the subject from the case to other things: we commiserated about work; we talked about Gumshoe's date with Maggey that evening and where they were planning to go (they were going to go to that new French restaurant that recently opened in L.A.); his plans to rebuild the Blue Badger into the best one ever and talked for half an hour conversation about Maya and Pearls' latest letter from Kurain and catching up on how things were going there. (They were fine and doing very well but missed us and hoped that everyone was well. They'd be down to visit in a couple of weeks and looked forward to meeting me at the station.)

I was trying very hard _not _to think about _what_ next week was while we talked and, at least on my end, the conversation was stilted. I was well aware that Gumshoe knew, too, if the sympathy I could see in his eyes was any indication. I acknowledged his concern with a wan smile and gamely started another conversation about the Blue Badger which Gumshoe immediately-and ecstatically-pounced on. While he talked excitedly about his plans for rebuilding after the Blue Badger's unfortunate demise a few weeks earlier (apparently the Chief of Police had 'accidentally' backed over it under 'suspicious circumstances'), I was trying not to give in to despair although it was proving to be a very difficult thing to do.

I tried to keep my mind on the conversation and _not _on Miles' ghostly presence that always hovered in the back of my mind but he kept interrupting, breaking into my stream of consciousness whether I wanted him to or not. I _knew_ that today was going to be hard but reminders kept slipping in through the barrier I had erected about my broken heart and the fresh wounds cut me to the bone. It was bad enough that Miles _was_ dead; it was even worse that he'd killed himself. I couldn't help but berate myself for not being able to stop him and it wounded me deeply... when I _didn't _hate him for abandoning me.

_Three years... it's been three years and I'm _still _grieving,_ I thought despondently, looking at the floor for a moment, trying to get myself under some kind of control, anger mixing with despair as Detective Gumshoe hovered near me, his face wreathed in sympathy. _This is ridiculous... I'm so tired of this but I can't forget, no matter what I do. I just wish I could get on with my life!_

"I'm sorry you're having such a rough time today, pal," Gumshoe murmured sympathetically, his hand lying on my shoulder. "I wish that things were different."

_So do I._

I opened my mouth to say something but thought better of it, simply murmuring, "Thank you, Detective."

After few minutes later, I looked at my watch and saw that I needed to go to my appointment with my client shortly and bid Detective Gumshoe a good morning which he warmly returned as I slowly walked out of the office and down the hallway.

Had I waited a few more minutes, I would have been privy to a conversation the good detective had on the phone with a mysterious person... a conversation that would have explosive repercussions for me and break my heart anew.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

_12:00 P.M._

_Gumshoe watched in silence as Phoenix made his way out of the office after their chat, biting his lip, conflicting emotions battling within him. He felt like a traitor, knowing how much pain he was in but he had given his word that he would say nothing of the phone calls he had been receiving as of late. He was torn, though, and it made him distinctly uncomfortable whenever his conscience pricked him._

_He hated keeping the truth from Phoenix but he'd given his word that he would stay silent; for the tenth time that day, he was left wondering if that was really such a good idea. Phoenix was in so much pain that it hurt Gumshoe to see him like that; they were friends, after all, and it was this that kept nagging at him even as he waited for the phone to ring which it did a couple of moments later._

_His hand dove into his pocket, snatching the phone and flipping it open quickly, pressing the "talk" button firmly as he brought it to his ear._

"Yes?" _A pause. "_Yes, he just left, Sir." _He tilted his head slightly to the right, looking up at the spackled ceiling, his brow furrowing slightly. _"When? A few moments ago; he's pretty upset." _Gumshoe's eyebrow rose. _"I don't mind tellin' ya that I don't like doing this..." _He sighed resignedly, his free hand reaching up behind his head to scratch his neck. _"I know, Sir; you _have_ your reasons but he's in a _lot _of pain, too, and I can't help thinkin' I might be contributing to it, somehow. And it _doesn't_ make me feel real comfortable."

_He winced, holding the phone away from his ear for a bit._ "I know, Sir, I know... I said I would keep your secret and I have. I just _don't_ feel good about it, that's all..." _He idly scratched the outside of his nose. _"Yes, Sir. When will you be coming back?" _He nodded and then jumped when the secretary's puzzled voice asked him where the copy room was, giving him a strange look as she turned and walked __away. He looked after her for a bit and then shrugged, his attention returning to the impatient voice that was on the phone. _"Okay. Do you need me to pick you up? What time? This afternoon, 3 o'clock, L.A. airport? Okay, I'll be there."

_Gumshoe pressed the "talk" button and the connection faded before he flipped it shut and put it in his pocket, sighing loudly as he did so, pushing his hands deeply into his trench-coat pockets before turning on his heel and walking towards the entrance of the police station. _

_He didn't like what he was doing and his conscience nagged him something fierce but he'd given his word to Mr. Edgeworth that he wouldn't reveal his secret and he was determined, come what may, of keeping his promise... even if it hurt one of his closest friends._

_Gumshoe sighed once more as he pushed the entrance bar on the front of the double doors, stepping out into the slightly overcast morning, his expression unhappy and his shoulders slumped. He _hated _being put in this position, having to choose between loyalties to two friends since he both loved and held them in the highest esteem. _

_But who else could Mr. Edgeworth have trusted with such a delicate task? Even though he may not have appeared to be very bright, Gumshoe was discretion itself and, as Mr. Edgeworth was well aware of, he would keep this knowledge to himself._

_He knew well that, if Phoenix found out that Mr. Edgeworth was _still _alive and that he, Gumshoe, not only _knew _it but had _known _about it for some time, it would put an indelible strain on their friendship that he wasn't sure would survive it. _

_He also knew that Phoenix _wasn't _going to be happy when he found out, that much he was sure of and, for once, he was happy_ not _to be _anywhere _in the general vicinity when Mr. Edgeworth would meet him again in the cemetery..._

_He had said to Mr. Edgeworth that perhaps this _wasn't _the best way to reestablish contact with Phoenix after so long but, after the combination of a verbal tongue-lashing and an icy glare, he'd kept any more objections he had to himself._

_Gumshoe shuddered as he plunged his hands deep into his pockets once more, hurrying out the door and across the street toward his parked car, hoping that, once Mr. Edgeworth had revealed himself and explained the reasons for his disappearing, that Phoenix could find it in his heart to forgive him for this deception._

_He also hoped that Phoenix would forgive _him_, too, should it come to that._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_11:45 A.M._

_Police Headquarters  
Holding Room_

I held the file in my left hand as I slowly opened the door to the prisoner holding room with my right, stepping quickly through the door and pulling it shut behind me. I walked quickly over to the chair that stood in front of an open room with a plexiglass divider and sat down, getting my first real look at the person who sat there.

The suspect, Richard Carstairs, aged forty-five, sat slumped in the chair behind the plexiglass, his face haggard, dark circles under his eyes indicating that he hadn't been sleeping well since he'd been arrested, a week's worth of beard covering his sallow, sunken cheeks and rumpled clothing all spoke of a man who was near the end of his rope.

A police officer stood guard silent sentinel in the corner directly behind Mr. Carstairs, his face expressionless although I was sure that his sharp eyes were constantly scanning the room, keeping a close watch on both the prisoner _and _myself. I couldn't help shuddering a little when I felt the guard's eyes rest directly on _me_.

I swallowed hard as the guard's eyes met mine over the top of his sunglasses: they were a hard, flinty agate, and I noticed a slight twitch of the right hand corner of his mouth but he merely nodded in my direction and then went back to his original position, his head looking over the top of my client's head.

My heart went out to my client; I knew well what is was like to face scrutiny of this sort and, although my gut feeling was that he _wasn't _guilty, I needed to tamp that part of me down and follow the evidence that we had. Which, admittedly, made Mr. Carstairs look _incredibly_ guilty.

I sighed and rubbed my red eyes tiredly, blinking a few times to try and clear my vision. Another in a long line of sleepless nights coupled with long, exhausting work days were taking their toll; I desperately needed some down time to relax and recharge but that wasn't possible at the moment and very likely not for the extended future. My client stood accused of the savagely brutal murder of his wife and, although the evidence against him was mostly circumstantial, it _was _solid.

_Just what I needed_, I thought morosely, pulling out the chair slowly as I sank down into it, putting the file on the desk in front of me, _more problems. Why can't my life be simpler or, better yet, my cases be that way? _I sighed inwardly, my fingers lacing together and lying on the desk in front of me. _Too many things to check, too many questions to ask. God, I hate my life sometimes..._

After a few moments of silence, I took a deep breath and looked through the plexiglass at the shattered man who sat on the other side of it. Richard Carstairs looked blankly at the floor, his eyes wide open but not seeing, his mouth working but no sound emerged. _This_ was a man on his last tether and I knew that confinement certainly _wasn't_ helping him; I had that strong feeling in my gut again that this _was _an innocent man but, so far as I could tell at this point in time, the evidence stated otherwise.

_I hate my job sometimes... _I took another quick glance at the wreck of humanity that sat across from me, my face creased in sympathy. This was definitely one of the aspects of my job that I _really_ disliked. _I _know _he isn't guilty but I have to prove it and that isn't going to be an easy task since the evidence that we have is stacked solidly against him._

I unlinked my fingers and rubbed my eyes tiredly before linking them together again. _Here goes..._

"Mr. Carstairs?" I asked gently, keeping my voice low so as not to startle him since he seemed lost in himself. "My name is Phoenix Wright and I'll be defending you in court." When he made no reply, I repeated my query. "Mr. Carstairs?" Nothing. I repeated my query again when he remained unresponsive, over and over until, five minutes later, he slowly lifted his head to look at me.

I nearly reared back in shock at the pitiful wreck that stared back at me. If I had thought that the man looked as if were going around the bend, this merely confirmed it. He looked incapable of coherent thought, let alone coherent speech and I wondered _how_ I was going to question him in this state.

For several minutes, he sat there as if he were in a trance, his wide, blank eyes staring off into space. I could see his mouth moving and strangled half-words and phrases were coming out of his mouth. The guard made a move to come toward him but I waved him off; he needed some time to come to himself and I didn't want anyone interfering with that process. With a skeptical look, the guard stepped back, taking his place back in the corner of the room, keeping a close eye on Mr. Carstairs.

He seemed to pull himself together slightly at first, struggling to throw off the invisible bonds that bound him, twitching wildly and he shimmied back and forth in the chair, moving it slowly in half-circles in an arc around the front of the plexiglass.

The guard half-turned to look in my direction and I shook my head in the negative at the unasked question; with a stiff shrug that spoke volumes, the guard resumed his place once again and we both watched in silence as Mr. Carstairs fought to overcome whatever it was that was holding him back. After a tense few moments more, he finally collapsed forward in his chair, his arms falling onto the desk in front of him and his head following soon after, panting hard.

I nodded to the guard who went to Mr. Carstairs' side, gently lifting him up and wiping the perspiration from his face with a black handkerchief. Once he had done this, the guard stepped back into his corner and I got my first good look at my client. He looked a little the worse for wear although I couldn't really blame him; incarceration of _any _sort wears on one's spirit, as I was well aware of, and, moreover, he also stood accused of a most brutal and horrific crime.

At first glance, Mr. Carstairs was in a world of trouble and, if the evidence that I had in my possession in the file in front of me was any indication, his day was about to go from bad to worse. I felt a pang of guilt that it was I who would be the bearer of the bad tidings and I hated to see the desperate yet hopeful look cross his face when he said, "M-Mr. Wright? Are... are you-you here to... to... defend me?" He struggled to sit up, several expressions flickering over his face. "You... are my-my... attorney?"

I nodded. "Yes, Mr. Carstairs. I have been hired to represent you in the upcoming trial." I sighed and shook my head. "It doesn't look good for you right now, I'll admit that straight off."

Richard Carstairs' face crumpled. "I'm... innocent..." he whispered, so softly that I had to lean forward to hear what he was saying. "I-I... didn't... kill... my... my... wife, Mr. Wright... I swear I _didn't_!"

I believed him. There was something _so _intrinsically wrong about this case that even Detective Gumshoe was able to pick up on and that firmly cemented my belief that Richard Carstairs was innocent of all charges. Still... there _was_ the evidence that had been collected and I laid my hand on top of the file, my lip quirking at the edges. How to account for it was going to be _another_ matter altogether when I knew, without _any _doubt, that he _was_ innocent of the charge of murder.

The question was: _how _was I going to prove it when what we had seemed to indicate otherwise?

I bit my lip, noting that Mr. Carstairs' eyes had gone very wide, as if he knew in which direction my thoughts were going. His lips trembled as he leaned forward, desperation marked clearly in his face, his hands knotted together.

"I... didn't... do it!" he cried desperately, his face haunted. "All I know is that... that, when I came home, Amy wasn't at the door to greet me like she usually is. I thought it odd, yes, but I _wasn't _angry with her or anything like that..." He lifted his head to look at me, tears welling up in his eyes. "I... I loved her _very _much, Mr. Wright, and I would _never _do anything to hurt her in _any_ way." From the passionate look on his face, I believed him and waited for him to continue.

Richard Carstairs looked at me, his eyes full of pain. "I … I... just _wondered_ where she'd gotten to and thought it _very_ odd that she wasn't there to greet me when I walked in through the door after work; I can count on that like clockwork." He hung his head. "All I remember is I came into the house, she wasn't there to greet me at the door and I looked for her. I walked into the living room and then-" He paused.

"Yes?" I prompted, my eyes narrowing as I studied him.

"I-I... don't... remember," he finished helplessly, spreading out his hands. "I woke up in the wrecked living room, my finger covered in blood and Amy's battered body near me." Tears spilled down his cheeks like rain as he remembered the horrific scene. "I-I have no idea what happened, Mr. Wright, and I don't know _why _the back of my head hurts like the blue blazes, either."

My eyebrow raised. "Oh?" I knew what had happened, of course; it was all in the written report. What I wanted to see was if he knew.

He nodded slowly. "Yes." He touched the knot on the back of his head gingerly. "Obviously I was knocked out but I don't remember seeing anyone in the house."

I nodded quietly and listened as he told me all he knew which, admittedly, _wasn't _much. He reiterated his statement that he had come home and, not seeing his wife at the door to greet him as she was in the habit of doing, went in search of her. That was all he remembered until he came to in the middle of the wrecked living room, his wife's lifeless and savagely beaten body lying some inches away from him.

_The perpetrator must have been waiting for him inside the house, _I thought, biting my lip thoughtfully once Richard Carstairs had finished speaking_, there's _no _other explanation. The one who committed the crime was already in the house somewhere, waiting for him. Or... could it be that he had arrived at the house some time earlier, when Amy was still in the house? Could she have even let the perp in? There was _no _mention of forced entrance so its a possibility and its also possible that she knew him, letting him in of her own free will..._

"Did your wife know anyone?" I asked suddenly, Mr. Carstairs' head snapping up immediately, shock written plainly on his face at the question. I knew that I had worded the question the wrong way and opened my mouth to say so but he didn't give me a chance to say anything before his temper flared.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, his eyes reflecting his all too real pain, his mouth twisted in anger. "Are you saying that my wife was having an affair with someone else and this is why she died? Is that what you're saying, Mr. Wright?"

He glared at me with such hatred that it made me quail a little inside. I wasn't implying what he thought I was-that his wife was being unfaithful and had found her demise at the hands of her lover-and I waited for him to calm himself which he did a few minutes later. He slumped back in his chair, a hurt and defeated look on his face, all energy spent. He looked so tired and lost that I ached for him, all too well acquainted with _that _particular feeling.

_I wish I didn't._

I took a deep breath and looked him square in the face. "No, Mr. Carstairs, that is _not_ what I'm saying," I replied primly. "What I want to know is if your wife had any friends that you knew of in the general vicinity." I leaned forward, my eyes locking onto his, my mouth narrowing into a thin line. "There were _no _signs of forced entry so that leads to the conclusion that your wife either knew intimately, or was an acquaintance of, the perpetrator. She let him in so she had to have known him at least a little to do so; I can't see her letting anyone in she didn't know."

Richard Carstairs shook his head numbly. "She wouldn't have let in _anyone_ she didn't know," he said quietly, "and I can tell you that for a fact." He took a deep breath. "She is-_was_-a _very _cautious woman, Mr. Wright; she _wouldn't_ let anyone she didn't know into the house or even the front yard, for that matter." He shrugged his shoulders. "I confess that I'm having a great deal of trouble trying to reconcile the fact that there wasn't any forced entry when, as far as I know, Amy didn't have _any _close friends in the vicinity at all."

"Where is the closest friend she have live?"

"In Santa Barbara. Her name is Melisande Browne and she and Amy grew up together as kids in Carmel."

I nodded, lifting my hand off of the file and flipping it open, pulling out a pen and began writing notes as Richard recited Ms. Browne's address and telephone number. We talked a half hour more and, by the time we had finished, I was certain that my gut feeling was right. Richard Carstairs _was_ not the person responsible for the savage death of his wife although I had no idea how we were going to find the one who was responsible or prove that he was the guilty party. All we had to go on at this point in time was the evidence in the file that the police had collected at the crime scene... and _that_ evidence pointed to Mr. Carstairs as the one responsible for his wife's death.

"Mr. Wright?" a small voice asked, breaking into my thoughts. I lifted my head up quickly to see Mr. Carstairs looking at me, with a sad expression on his face.

"Yes?"

"Do you believe me?" he asked quickly, cheeks flushing a brick red as he did so. "Do you think that I...I... killed... my wife?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm pretty sure you didn't kill your wife and, yes, I believe that you're innocent." I stopped for a moment, his sad eyes starting to light up with hope. "The only problem I have is that all the evidence we have to go on at this time points to _you_ being the guilty party," I continued and he gave a strangled squawk, his eyes widening. "I don't know _how_ I'm going to prove it, Mr. Carstairs, but my gut's _never_ been wrong yet. I'm convinced of your innocence and now I have to find a way to prove it."

"How does it look for me?" he asked plaintively.

"Not good at this point," I replied honestly and he nodded, as if that was what he was expecting me to say all along, "but I intend to press on until we get the answers to _who _killed your wife and _why_."

Mr. Carstairs smiled faintly, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes. "That's all I can ask of you," he said softly, "and thank you for believing in me. My life is in your hands, Mr. Wright; I'm trusting you to do the best you can and, hopefully, you can ferret out the real killer and bring him to justice."

"I certainly hope I can, Mr. Carstairs," I said, rising from my seat as Mr. Carstairs did the same on the other side of the glass, the guard coming silently to his side to escort him back to his cell, "and I promise you that I will do the very best I can to find out who the real killer is and bring that person to justice. You have my word on that."

"Thank you, Mr. Wright," he replied quietly, turning away from the plexiglass, the guard's hand gently wrapping itself around his arm as he escorted him out of the room and back to his cell.

Once he was gone, I turned and began walking out of the room, wondering how in the world I was going to prove him innocent when all of the cards were stacked against us. I was so deep in thought as I walked down the corridor that I nearly collided with a secretary laden with an armful of paper, apologizing quickly as the flustered woman stared at me in hostile silence for a few moments before her eyes softened, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile as she nodded before continuing on down the corridor. I watched her until she turned a corner and was lost to sight and I smiled I continued on my way, now paying more attention to my surroundings than I had before.

_We'll deal with that problem once we come to it_, I decided, walking quickly out of the door once I had reached it, my heart lighter than it had been that day as I exited the building, _but_, _right now, we have work to do._

Everything else, for the moment, could wait.


	12. Chapter 12

_Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright and Detective Gumshoe don't belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, however, is mine. :^)_  
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_A/N: This story is not connected to_ _ "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first. :)  
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_The moment of truth has arrived. After three year's absence, Miles has returned to the place-and the people-he once ran from. He isn't sure how this will be received but an even bigger question looms and one that fills him with dread: _how _will Phoenix react and, once he learns of Miles' deception, can Phoenix forgive him?  
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Chapter 12 at last! Wow; writer's block can be such a nuisance! Sorry that this is late and I hope that you will all enjoy the latest chapter! :^) Long chapter ahead! [Note: The emotional confrontation is set for chapter 13 since, when I started writing the bridge, it took off naturally in that direction so I'm going with it. Just so you know why this ends on a cliffhanger. Also, Miles' and Phoenix's inner voices are in **bold** text and enclosed within :, as Mercedes lackey does in her Valdemar novels when using Mind-Speech.]  
I've also tried to depict what I think Miles would be going through at this point. What he did was wrong, definitely, but it makes much more sense when you look at what he, himself, is going through. [The bits about the "nightmare that he wasn't quite sure_ was_ a nightmare" and that Miles had a drinking problem in the past are taken from my AU fics, _In Vino Veritas _and _Luctor Et Emergo_, in case there were some questions about where these tidbits of information came from. :^) Also spoilers for Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney.] To be fair, Miles _didn't_ have an easy time of it, either, but he still _should_ have stuck with Phoenix and faced his demons head on instead of running away; there really is no excuse for that. Silly Miles... that's what happens when you try to tackle a_ very_ emotional problem yourself when you're already reeling from a number of emotional shocks... You really should learn to trust Phoenix.

On another note, the next chapter will be awhile in coming since I'm doing my beta reading myself and I tend to take forever to get it to the way I like it. Just to let you know in advance. :^)

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :)

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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_November 20th_  
_Outside Phoenix Wright's Residence, At The Master Bedroom Window_  
_5 A.M._

_Miles Edgeworth stood outside on the lawn in the pre-dawn hours, his hand pressed forlornly against the window pane of the house's master bedroom (his former residence, in fact), his fingertips curling as he touched the glass. His eyes traveled over the familiar confines of the bedroom that he and Phoenix used to share, his heart tightening with pain as that came back forcefully to him._

**:**_You_ **were the one who left** _him,_**:**_ his conscience nagged relentlessly, the corner of Miles' mouth twitching with barely concealed annoyance, _**:****so** _you_ **have no one else except** _yourself_ to blame_._**:**_ The voice went silent for a moment and, before Miles could open his mouth to respond, it came back with, _**:****You** _could_ **have been inside with him now if you weren't such a coward but no.** _You_ **had to run away and leave** _him_ alone, **shattered and hurting**.**:** _The voice sniffed disdainfully, its words dripping with undisguised scorn and venom._ **:****Honestly, Miles, you** _really_ **are pathetic**.:

_Miles snapped his mouth shut, wincing painfully as the barbs hit home. He couldn't argue with the sentiment, much as he would have liked to, since it was nothing more than the plain, unvarnished truth. He _had _been a coward then and he _had _run away from everything, including his beloved Phoenix, an action he had been regretting every day for the past three years. His journey into despair had begun when he was flying back to Germany, his heart in turmoil as he thought of what he had just done. Unable to bear the tumultuous emotions released in him at the resolution of the DL-6 case, he'd written a note, packed as many of his personal items that he either needed or could carry and left that night for the airport, catching the first flight to Germany he could.  
_

_It _had _become apparent to him-after a horrible nightmare that he, to this day, wasn't convinced _was _a nightmare at all and whose memory still made him shudder-what a fool he'd been in running away instead of facing his demons head on and, in the process, abandoning the one he loved more than anyone else in the world. To his shame and despair, this realization had come too late and he'd cursed himself every day since, a fate he felt that he thoroughly, and unabashedly, deserved. He'd stopped drinking since the nightmare-he didn't know what _else _to call it which was all to the good, as far as he was concerned-and had struggled to put the pieces of his life back together although his courage, up until a few months ago, had begun to wane and he wasn't sure if this crazy idea would actually work._

_Matters, he well knew, could _not _be left in this way, unfinished and tormenting him relentlessly, giving him neither respite day or night. After two years of _very_ painful soul searching-the first year he'd been in too much psychological pain and had tried to bury his unhappiness in the bottle-he'd decided to come back to the place-and the one-he had run from. He resolved to do three things: to face his own personal demons, to try and make things right with Phoenix and to put to rest, once and for all, the ghosts of his past of DL-6. He took his time, going over the pros and cons of action vs. inaction in his mind; this was too important a decision to take lightly for it would affect the direction the rest of his life would go. It took him four months of very often painful searching but, in the end, he'd made his decision: he would go back to his home, to the place he'd once run from in order to try and make things right with those he had left behind. He didn't know exactly what would happen, if anything, but he resolved to try. it was the least he could do.  
_

_It might have taken him some time to decide in which direction to go but, once his mind was made up, he acted quickly and decisively. Late one September evening, he had put all of his affairs, both business and personal, in order before hurriedly packing and catching the next red-eye flight to the United States later that evening.__ As he drove to the airport, his heart was pounding with barely concealed excitement which didn't abate once he had boarded the plane. Even as the aircraft taxied down the runway, his fingers tapped nervous, staccato rhythms on the arm rest which earned him a dark look from the passenger seated beside him. _

_Flushing with embarrassment, Miles apologized to his seat mate and stilled his nervous digits, curling his hand into a fist and cupping his other hand tightly around it. He tried to get his whirling thoughts under some kind of conscious control but it was impossible to do; he was going home to everything he had once run from in order to try and make things right with those he had left behind. Behind the excitement there lurked an apprehension he couldn't quite get rid of. How would his friends take his return? How would Phoenix?_

_Once they were airborne, he settled down to the long flight and spent the next eight and a half hours sitting quietly, his thoughts tumbling over one another excitedly. He wasn't sure _when_ his feelings took a darker turn but, near to the end of the flight, he was suddenly pummeled with a feeling of dread, anticipation warring with anxiety as to what would happen once he arrived in the US. _

_Now that he was back on familiar territory, he felt a nearly overwhelming urge to get back on the plane, fly back to Germany and never come back. No matter how hard he tried, he _couldn't_ shake the _very_ real feeling that he would be stirring up a hornet's nest and that things would go badly for him in the process. He'd shrugged off these feelings and set about re-establishing himself in California, renting a small apartment in West Los Angeles. He'd also contacted Detective Gumshoe who had greeted him enthusiastically with great joy though tinged, at least at first, with dazed confusion. Miles explained the situation to him, Gumshoe nodding in agreement and sympathetic understanding. Miles asked him to keep his return a secret for now since he would reveal himself when the time came for him to do so and this the good detective had immediately agreed to do._

_Now, he fearfully wondered if that had been the right thing to do. Shouldn't he have come clean to Phoenix when he first arrived in California instead of staying hidden as he had? He knew that Gumshoe was happy to see him but...  
_

**:Well, what**_ exactly _**did you expect?:**_ the taunting, snarky voice in his head asked him, jerking Miles firmly back into the present with an unpleasant jolt. **:**_**Did you expect a warm welcome or were you expecting to see that nothing has really changed at all and that everyone that you once cared for, particularly **_him_**, has gone on with their lives and have no further need of you?:**

_Where that particularly noxious thought had come from exactly he was never sure but, as the days wore on and he felt his resolve to seek out his beloved slipping and unnamed terror beginning to overwhelm him yet again, he began to wonder if it would be better for all concerned if he stayed "dead." _

**:Perhaps... perhaps not. No matter; in the end, Miles Edgeworth, you** _were_, **and still **_are_**, a fool. **_Why _**others think of you with affection is beyond me.:**

_Miles winced at the harsh and unforgiving words but he couldn't deny their terrible accuracy. He _had_ been a fool then and he readily admitted as much; after all, it had been three years since his "death" and all of the people he had once known and been close to had gone on with their lives. What purpose would it serve, could it serve, other than to soothe his own guilty conscience, to return to the place that haunted him in his nightmares and to the people he had so callously left behind in his flight?_

_It was a temptation that his entire being screamed out at him to partake in, his tortured mind begging him to bury these emotions once and for all, to be done with the places, and people, connected with his past and slipping silently into the shadows, never to see the daylight, or them, again._

They _don't_ need me,_ he thought forlornly, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, waves of recriminating self-pity sweeping over him. _They don't even know that I've returned. What place do I occupy in their lives now, what am I to them except possibly a distant, painful memory best forgotten? What right do I have to burst back into their lives after all this time?

_He opened his eyes, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat, sighing deeply. _What right do I have to upend their lives by announcing that I was never dead but had only run away from my demons?

_He knew, beyond question, what uproar would result when he revealed himself and he dreaded the reaction of Phoenix most of all. How could he possibly ever hope to repair the damage he'd done to him by his flight and disappearance all those years ago? Miles didn't know... and that, perhaps, was the worst torture that he had had to endure in his life; the pain of not knowing, thoughts of what might have been had he _only_ had the courage to face the trauma of his past, the endless "If only's"... _

_Phoenix_ would_ have been right there beside him, he knew that without question but, still, when push had come to shove, he'd chosen flight over fight and abandoned the one person he loved in the world to a heartbroken and lonely life. _

How,_ he wondered now_, _could he have thought for one moment that Phoenix would have forgotten him, and all the memories of their life together up until that point, and gone on with his life as if he hadn't existed? Who, exactly, was Miles trying to convince: Phoenix, or himself?_

_He clenched his hands into fists, recrimination washing over him in a poisonous wave. How could he ever hope to atone for that? He wasn't even sure that Phoenix could forgive him for what he'd done and wouldn't it be better for all concerned if he just stayed in the shadows, alone with his memories of happier times, atoning as best he could for the damage he'd inflicted? Maybe it _would _be for the best if he..._

_Miles bit his lip, giving his head a violent shake._ I... _can't _do that... I... _can't_ abandon him again! I _have_ to make things right or at least try to; I _know _that Phoenix _isn't _going to take this well and _that's_ an understatement if I ever heard one! _He sighed with mingled unhappiness and regret as he once again stared at the ground, his thoughts a chaotic whirl. He looked up again, a painful longing racing through him as he peered through the window, watching the prone figure as he slept fitfully, tossing and turning in the large bed that seemed so big with only one person in it, soft moans slipping past tightly pressed lips. He also noted that a large handful of the comforter was squeezed tightly in his clenched fists which was another indication that all was not well with the sleeping man. _

_Whatever dreams he had, they _weren't _pleasant ones, that much was abundantly clear and Miles felt his heart constrict once again that he should be the cause of his distress, equal parts of shame and anguish filling him as he continued his lonely sentinel in the predawn darkness._

_Miles slowly pressed his forehead against the chilly window pane, his left hand reaching up and pressing against the glass on the other side of his head and closed his eyes, breathing softly in and out, his breath misting the glass in front of him._

"Phoenix..." _he murmured softly, feeling tears prick his eyes, his fingertips curling slowly into tight commas. _"I'm so sorry that I've done this to you... I wish that I hadn't run from you or our life together; I regret it now more than you can ever know."

_His jaw clenched, his mind fixed and with purpose. _"I promise you, here and now, that I'm through running. I was wrong to abandon you three years ago and I've learned from my mistakes; whatever terrible memories I would have had to face, I wouldn't have had to face them alone since you were always there for me. I know, and accept, that now in a way I couldn't have then."

_After a few moments, Miles lifted his head, looking at the still tossing and turning figure in the bedroom as he was assailed by nightmares, his lips twitching as a lone tear silently rolled down his face._ _How he longed to touch him at this moment!_ "I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I've done but, if you can find it in your heart to do so, I swear I'll _never _leave you again, no matter _what _happens!"

_He watched for a long time, unaware that the sun was slowly beginning to rise in the East, lost in his own memories..._

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_November 20th  
Phoenix Wright Residence  
7 A.M._

When the digital radio went off at seven o'clock sharp, it barely registered on my slowly awakening consciousness. I groaned as I turned over, pulling the brightly colored comforter over my head, trying to block out the incessant and highly irritating beeping. In vain, I might add, since I couldn't ignore the damn thing no matter how hard I tried.

I lay still for a few moments more before, with a huge sigh, I blearily stirred, my half-open eyes feeling gummy and sore. I rubbed them, half-heartedly, with my knuckles and was soon able to see slightly better than I was before and, with a quick smack, hit the snooze button on the radio before turning it off, resisting the urge to sink back down under the comforter.

I sighed with feeling. It was going to be another one of those days, I could feel it. Which, on the whole, really didn't make me feel_ too _eager to get out of my nice warm bed in order to face another day.

_If I could stay in bed all day it would be a blessing_, I thought fuzzily, blinking my eyes quickly and stifling another yawn, _but, as I well know, I can't do that; I have a job to do and I need to get up and get to it._ I sighed with regret, looking down at my bed once more, the urge to stay home becoming almost overwhelming. _Pity. I could certainly have used the day off since I really didn't have a good sleep last night but, as they say, duty calls._

With a sharp shake of my head, I took a deep breath, slowly exhaling and promptly followed by a large yawn that nearly propelled me backward onto the bed, catching myself just in time so I didn't take a tumble onto the floor. I hadn't been expecting that! With an embarrassed chuckle, I slowly sat upright once again, making sure that I had a firm grip on the bed spread and that my feet were planted firmly on the floor before I moved so I wouldn't have another near tumble.

I yawned once again a few moments later as I stood up, lifting my arms above my head and stretching briefly before I let them fall to my side, absentmindedly scratching my shoulder. I yawned once again as I turned and made my way over to the window, drawing the thick, heavy curtains to one side, parting them down the middle. I fiddled with the curtain clasps for a few minutes as I slowly and carefully drew back the thick curtain to the left, wrapping the clasp around the gathered fabric and slipping the ring over its hook, letting the fabric gather in controlled folds that hung gracefully to the floor.

I smiled, admiring my handiwork for a little bit, running my fingertips gently over the thick fabric. Who was it that had said that I was hopeless when it came to hanging floor-length drapes properly? I smiled crookedly. It was Maya, I believe, who had made the first of many and sundry running commentaries about my lack of skill in 'domestic affairs,' not that_ she, _herself_, _had had much more experience than I, wishing fervently that she could have been here to witness my triumph in overcoming the dastardly drapes! I couldn't help but laugh at that and the silly mental image it conjured up in my mind which did help to repair my mood. I supposed it also didn't hurt that I was finally waking up, my first, sleepy moments being gently eased aside in favor of wakefulness.

I had reached over and was about to gather together the second set of drapes together when my hand froze in midair, my eyes widening with equal amounts of shock and fear. There were _two _sets of hand prints this time on the window and a larger print that I couldn't _quite i_dentify in the middle between the two. I stood stock still for many moments, frozen to the spot. How long had it been since those prints had first appeared on my bedroom window? A month, maybe more? Now they were back and with an extra one where there _hadn't_ been one before.

My mouth dry, I slowly backed away from the window, nearly tumbling over the chair in the haste to put as much distance between myself and the window as I could. My hand shook vividly as I clutched at the back of the chair a few seconds before my legs gave out and I fell into it, my heart hammering in my chest, gasping for breath.

_I thought that I was done with this... I... thought that... it was all... in my imagination..._ my mind chittered fearfully, my legs trembling so much that the chair vibrated noticeably on the floor, _what... who...someone is watching me! Why? Why is someone watching me? Who could it be? What... who... why...? Why is someone watching me? For what purpose?_

I had to get a grip on myself; I could feel my mind teetering on the brink of fear and that wasn't something that I wanted to have happen at this point in time. _Something_ weird was going on and I had to be on the top of my game in order to figure it out.

I closed my eyes for some time, taking deep breaths and slowly exhaling. I found this to be calming and helped me to get my thoughts in order when I needed to do some serious thinking. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes and began to go over the possibilities of who it might be that had stood at my bedroom window last night. While I didn't know _who_ exactly was watching me, the very fact of the reappearance of the hand prints on my bedroom window was enough to convince me that it wasn't my imagination at all but that I really _did_ have someone watching me. Which brought up another question: why? I couldn't think of any reason who might be stalking me and wondered if it had anything to do with the Carstairs' murder case.

_That might be it,_ I thought, boxing my hand underneath my chin as my heartbeat returned to normal, my eyebrows furrowing, _that's the _only _thing it possibly could be! I_ looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, chewing on my lower lip thoughtfully, my mind turning over all the possibilities. _There's also something else: could I have ruffled the perpetrator's feathers enough that he's coming after me, perhaps watching me to get an idea of my daily routine before he makes his move? If so, then _why _is he _always_ appearing at my bedroom window? I would have thought that he would be following me everywhere I go but he never goes any further than the bedroom window. It doesn't make _any _sense..._

There was always the possibility that there could be another person involved but that really didn't seem likely to me. The hand prints had turned up randomly and then disappeared for over a month before they returned so it didn't seem to be part of a larger plan. It could be but I really didn't think so_; _it just _didn't_ have that pre-meditated feel to it and I'd been an attorney long enough to know that a gut feeling was something you didn't ignore.

_So let's see: this _doesn't _feel pre-meditated but, rather, it feels more like a random occurrence, something that was done on the spur of the moment for some reason. _I frowned._ What I can't figure out is the why of it. Why did someone stand there, hands pressed up against the window? Why were they watching? And there's the question of the third print: what is it, exactly, and why did it appear this time but not the last time? _I closed my eyes, uncurling my hand and lifting it to my forehead, rubbing it tiredly. _Does this have something to do with the Carstairs case and, if so, what? I made a face. I can't really see this as being connected to it although it's just too random to be coincidental. _

I sighed as I stood up, hurriedly drawing the right hand curtains together, tying them quickly and hooking them to the curtain ring, shaking out the creases with a trembling hand. I quickly dressed, grabbing the clothes I'd discarded the night before on the floor and hurrying out to the kitchen to get a quick bite, all the while trying_ not_ to look in the direction of the window. The prints had looked to be relatively fresh and, though I didn't care to admit it, the prints on the window shook me more that I wanted to acknowledge.

Shrugging once more, I grabbed a quick cup of coffee, drank it down without really tasting it and grabbed my briefcase, hurrying out the door and down the two blocks to the bus stop and waited, literally trembling with mingled excitement and dread. Luck was with me this morning since the bus arrived a few moments after I'd reached the stop-usually, I had to make a mad dash in order to catch it before it left-and I boarded quickly, my heart pounding in my chest. I was _very _glad to be going to work this morning, even if I were exhausted from my lousy night's sleep; to get out of the house for awhile and away from the mysteriously appearing hand prints was a relief and, once away from there, I could think more logically.

As I sat and watched the scenery pass by, I realized that there was something I hadn't thought of in all the excitement in discovering the hand prints on the window and it brought a deep sadness that time hadn't been able to heal: today was the third anniversary of Miles' death, the thought of which brought a stab of pain into my heart as I sat watching the world through the bus window.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. _It's been three years since he's passed on; you'd think that I would have been used to it by now!_ I opened my eyes, a lone tear trickling down my cheek that I quickly wiped away with shaking, impatient fingers and turning away from the window to stare at the floor, hoping that no one had noticed.

_It's going to be a lovely day. I can tell. _I looked up at the overcast sky, my brow furrowing as sorrow and anger raced through me in equal measure_. I wonder why it's always overcast on this day in particular since it always has been for the past three years. _I chuckled mirthlessly, swallowing over the lump in my throat._ Funny how that always happens...  
_

The rest of the trip passed in silence, with only my gloomy thoughts and overcast skies for company.

_November 20th  
5 P.M.  
Meadow Gardens Cemetery_

It was cold and cloudy later that afternoon when I went to visit Gregory Edgeworth's grave. It was much the same as it had been when I'd visited the year earlier, the cold chilling me to the bone as I blew on my fingers, the crackling gold lamé paper sounding like a rifle shot in the perpetual stillness. I jumped at the sound, giving an embarrassed laugh as I realized that the source of the sharp, staccato sound was only the lamé that was wrapped around the bouquet of tulips I carried. I quickly opened the metal gate and stepped inside, heaving a giant sigh of relief as I did so.

It hadn't been as easy day and the walk to the flower shop was even worse than it normally was. I didn't know which bothered me more: the fact that Miles had committed suicide or the pitying looks the flower shop assistant gave me as she wrapped up my purchase. Shaking my head in an effort to clear it, I turned and walked quickly down the path cloaked by potted plants and turned to the right, heading toward Gregory Edgeworth's grave... and stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes widening in surprise.

Standing sentinel at his grave was a figure, half obscured in the gathering darkness, it's head bowed, hands clasped in front of it in a wordless gesture of respect. To my amazement, I found that there was something... _familiar,_ somehow... in the manner in which it stood.

Memory raced through me as I recalled the only person who ever stood like that.

_Miles?_ I felt my heart start to beat faster. _Could it be...? No... it _can't_ be but... _I took another long look at the figure, biting my lip in consternation as I did so, memory after memory crashing into me._ It's the only thing it could be! No one else I know stands like that!  
_

My breath came in hard, ragged pants as I forced my barely functioning legs into a run, racing down the path, dropping the bouquet of tulips on the muddy ground sometime in my mad flight. I hoped beyond hope that the figure wouldn't leave before I had a chance to reach the grave site.

I groaned aloud as the figure turned and began to walk slowly toward the bridge and I quickened my pace exponentially, flying past the graves on both sides of me and came to a screeching halt at the base of the bridge, doubled over and panting loudly, trying to get my breath back, hoping against hope that the figure wouldn't disappear into the darkening gloom. I didn't know who this person was but I aimed to find out although I doubted that I could get a good look at him in the gloomy shroud that had settled over the cemetery. Still, I resolved to try.

_At least maybe _one _mystery might be able to be solved..._

When I straightened up, I could see the figure still standing on the bridge, looking down at the raindrops striking the water in the stream below.

"Miles...?" I said quietly, my voice full of desperate pleading, "is that... _you_?"

_Please let it be you! It would be too cruel if this was only a phantasm in my own mind..._ _Please let it be real; you_ owe _me _that _much for all I've been through!_

It seemed like an eternity before the figure sighed and lifted it's head, turning slowly to look at me. I gasped as a shaft of moonlight shone on the figure's face, its silvery rays softly illuminating the sad, rugged face of Miles Edgeworth. Time seemed to stand still as we stood there, rooted to the spot. My breath caught in my throat as we stared at each other, both of us seemingly at a loss for words. My heart pounded double time in my chest as we looked across the years, our eyes speaking volumes as they locked onto each other.

The corners of my mouth twitched as realization swept over me. He was alive. Alive and well. Which meant that...

Miles Edgeworth _was_ alive!

_He'd _never_ been dead. He'd _been_ alive... all this time..._

The bouquet lay forgotten on the ground, rain splattering against the delicate petals, tearing them from the stems and scattering them in the mud.


	13. Chapter 13

_Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright and Dahlia Hawthorne don't belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, however, is mine. :^)_  
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_A/N: This story is not connected to_ _"All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first. :)  
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_After three years, Miles Edgeworth has returned... but_ not _to the welcome he had hoped to receive. Phoenix doesn't want him anywhere near him at this point and it looks like the love they had won't survive Miles' deception...  
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_Slight spoiler from Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney: Trials & Tribulations._

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Chapter 13 and part three of the story! :)

Wow, Miles certainly has his work cut out for him! Phoenix is _very_ upset over Miles' deception-which is putting it mildly, to say the least!-and he's going to have to pull out all the stops to make things right even if it looks like it will ultimately be a hopeless venture at this point which it probably is. It will take quite a bit of both time _and_ patience in order to soothe troubled waters and Miles will have to be careful; he can't afford to muck this up because he won't be getting another chance if he blows _this _one.

Phoenix's rather confused and muddled reaction is perfectly in tandem, I think, to what someone in a similar situation might really feel like with the confused and contradicting feelings that accompany it. He's confused, upset and angry and who can really blame him? He thought Miles was dead for three years, grieved steadily for those three years and, once he's _almost _gotten himself and his emotions to a reasonably comfortable place where he isn't crying on the hour every hour, Miles shows up and rips the _almost _healed wound wide open again. That would be a more than someone could reasonably be expected to take and Phoenix just caves with the inevitably explosive meltdown.

Looking over it, it may seem that Phoenix is acting very childish and I suppose, in a way, that he is. He's just been torn apart in every conceivable way for three years, blaming himself for not being able to stop Miles from taking his own life, not to mention his inability to sleep for many months afterward and the unrelenting grief he's had to deal with only to find out that Miles was never dead to begin with, that he's been alive all this time and not once in three years did Miles _ever_ attempt to make contact with him, to let him know that he's alive. _That _would be enough to infuriate anyone, I expect, not to mention it would hurt like hell! [There is a reason that Miles didn't contact him and that is explored in my fic, I_n Vino Veritas_ with the aftermath in _Luctor Et Emergo._] That_ doesn't _excuse him, however; he _should_ have contacted Phoenix earlier _before_ he showed up in the cemetery and explained things. It would have, in my opinion, gone a _long _way to soothing Phoenix's _very-_and_ rightly _so!_-_ruffled feathers. Miles has a **LOT** of work ahead of him!

I hope that I've shown that contradiction clearly in the way Phoenix reacts, his _very _muddled and conflicted feelings and the pain when Miles realizes that Phoenix is ending their relationship although there is a small spark of hope in there that maybe, just _maybe_, things will work themselves out and that they'll be right again. One can hope this will turn out to be the case but, then again, you never know...

This chapter was long enough that I could split it into two separate chapters and I have done just that! :) I'm finishing the polishing on this one and will work to complete the second, hopefully having it up within a few days, or a week or two, at most. Watch this space! :^)

*Also there may be some changes over the next few days to this chapter; I'm _not_ entirely happy with the middle half and will more than likely make some changes.*

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :)

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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_November 20th  
Meadow Gardens Cemetery  
Los Angeles, California  
5:45 P.M._

My eyes widened, my mouth dropping open in shock. I couldn't believe_ who _I was seeing standing three feet away from me, still as a statue; I blinked a few times to make sure that what I was seeing actually _was _there and _not _a figment of an overactive imagination.

The rain had begun to pick up which made it difficult to see anything in the gathering darkness. It was a rather surreal picture and I felt it keenly along with the shock and disbelief over _who_ I saw standing on the bridge.

_Miles...?_

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, my eyes wide open, my mouth working but no sound emerging, my hands trembling with the force of repressed emotion.

_Could it really be...? No... it can't be him! He's... dead! Miles Edgeworth is dead! This can't be him!_

"Phoenix," the apparition-no, _not _the apparition-of Miles Edgeworth whispered, reaching out with his left hand and slowly coming toward me while I stood there frozen to the spot, "I've come back."

My face went white as I took an involuntary step backward, my shaking hand pressing against my mouth, my eyes wide with both surprise and fear.

_It... couldn't... be! _my mind screamed, unable to accept what my lying eyes were seeing. _He... can't be real!_ _He's... __he's_... dead!

"You-you... can't be Miles Edgeworth," I said desperately, quickly stepping back as he continued his slow advance toward me, trembling with repressed emotion, "Miles Edgeworth... is... he's... he's... _dead_!" The last burst out of me with some force, stunning both myself and Miles with its vehemence.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, swallowing hard over the lump in my throat, a soft moan emerging from deep inside of me._ There... I've said it. Maybe now I can get on with my life...!_

"No, Phoenix," Miles said softly, shaking his head, his dark grey eyes filled with sadness and pain. "I'm _not _dead but I am alive and well... as you can see." I did note with some interest that he seemed nervous for some reason and, looking back on it now, I guess I couldn't really blame him. If what I was feeling now was any indication, I could only imagine what the look on my face must have been.

He seemed uncertain and hesitant, taking only one slow step toward me, his eyes never once leaving my face. I tried to look away but I couldn't; those grey orbs held mine and I felt like I was in a trance as I stared dreamily into them...

I shook my head hard, breaking the spell that had been so carefully woven by those longing grey eyes, my jaw tightening, my hands curling into fists as conflicting feelings swept across my face in a myriad tide of expressions.

My stomach churned as relief, anger, grief and disgust raged through me. All I had suffered over the past three years because of this man was brought back firmly to the front of my mind: myriads of sleepless nights; never ending grief and recriminations; long days and and even longer, lonely nights; never ending guilt that assailed me from the moment I awoke to the time I went to sleep at night, and even then being tormented by uneasy dreams and terrifying nightmares. Miles must have noticed this since he stopped mere inches away from me, his own expression pinched and unhappy. I couldn't have imagined what kind of pressure he would have been under although, I confess, that this hadn't occurred to me at the time. All I could see was Miles, the man I loved and the man who had betrayed me, standing there alive and well.

Seeing him like that infuriated me—how dare he! How dare he feel pain when I was the one who had suffered so much because of him! I had thought-was led to believe-that he was dead and the deep pain and overwhelming grief I had gone through for three long and lonely years. How many tears had I shed? How much pain did I have to deal with?

He left a suicide note, for God's sake! How many times had I castigated myself for that? How many times had I blamed myself for his death... and he wasn't even dead at all? What kind of man would put someone he supposedly loved through all that unnecessary pain? My eyes shot blue sparks as I turned to face him, my teeth clenched in pure anger. His grey eyes widened in surprise at the rage he saw on my face and this only made me angrier than I already was. Why should it be such a surprise that I was angry? He left me alone and let me think he was dead for three lonely, aching years!

_What _was he expecting to happen—that I would be so overwhelmed with happiness that he was alive that I would forget about those intervening years? Not bloody likely! I'd tortured myself ceaselessly, repeatedly wondering if there was anything-_anything_!-that I could have done to stop him and he'd been alive and well _all _this time! Now, _he_ was standing before _me,_ upset and uncertain, acting as if those lost years _hadn't _even happened! Damn him!

Miles' eyes looked sad and I resisted the urge to open my mouth and tell him exactly what I thought of him. As it was, he had borne the full brunt of my temper in silence, an anguished look in his eyes.

I couldn't believe it. Miles Edgeworth, looking sad? Regretting what he'd put me through these past three years? Regretting anything in general? I was so angry that I almost spit but I instead showed my contempt for him and summarily dismissed him, turning my back on him in the hope that he would leave.

I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me along with some shuffling noises and then silence. It was so quiet that I could have heard a pin drop and I could hear my heart hammering in my chest. For many moments, nothing happened and I looked down to see my hand trembling.

My lip curled._ Damn him!_ I thought angrily, trying without success to still my trembling hands. I_ don't believe this! He lets me think he's dead for three long years and then he shows up here expecting a warm welcome, as if nothing had ever happened! It will be a cold day in hell before he gets one from me! The sight of him sickens me...!_

I could hear soft shuffling noises approaching me slowly from behind and I felt my spine stiffen; I heard a soft intake of breath and the steps halted in their tracks. For many moments, the only sounds I heard was the rain hitting the ground and the naked trees groaning in protest as the driving wind tore through them. Neither of us spoke and the tension between us was so thick that you could have cut it with a knife.

_Go away, Edgeworth_, I thought, my eyes tearing up and my heart beginning to throb with all too familiar ache, staring at the black sky, go_ back into the oblivion you came from where I don't have to look at you, hear you or be near you. I don't want anything to do with you... not after what you've done. I_ swallowed over the lump that was beginning to form in my throat and I tried to ignore the painful ache_. Leave me alone and go back to wherever it was that you crawled out of. I don't care if I never see you again! The sooner _you_ leave, the happier _I'll _be!_

We stood in silence for some time, Miles slowly continuing to approach me from behind while I continued to ignore him, refusing to even turn around or even acknowledge his presence. I hoped that he would get the hint and just leave—and leave me in peace to grieve since I never wanted to see him again.

My conscience nagged at me though I did my level best to ignore it. ::_**You've wanted to see him for so long and, now that he's back, you can't stand the sight of him. Is that the way you treat someone you **__**love or loved? Does he deserve that?**_::

I felt sick with rage as I shook my head violently, trying to dislodge that all_ too_ reasonable inner voice, unable to believe the cold-heartedness of the man. **THIS** was **NOT **the Miles Edgeworth I had known and loved—_this_ man was a complete stranger to me.

I was so deep in my own misery that I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt the soft tickle of Miles' breath on the back of my neck; with my heart pounding in my chest, I jumped backward, leaning slightly to the left to avoid knocking him flat on his back. In hindsight, I also probably wanted to avoid _any_ contact with him, even if it were accidental. Which all goes to show just _how _angry I really _was_ with him. I felt betrayed more than angry, feeling less like a precious and cherished beloved than a punchline to Miles' joke at my expense.

I was, at this point, shaking so badly that I was having a hard time standing up, stumbling around a little, reaching out to the bridge railing in order to steady myself and feeling a cool, soft hand take mine, squeezing it tenderly.

A sorrowful moan erupted from my throat before I burst into tears. I felt like a fool but I couldn't help myself and made no attempt to try and contain it; I couldn't even if I had wanted to. I gave no resistance when Miles slowly, and with great gentleness, drew me to him and held me close, giving me the shoulder that I needed. I could feel his eyelashes gently flutter against the skin of my neck and I knew that he had closed his eyes.

I wept until I was hoarse, Miles stroking my head gently, whispering soft words of comfort into my ear. He was so tender in his attentions that I just collapsed into his arms, deep, wracking sobs erupting from deep within me. He held me close, his fingers digging into my hair, tears slowly slipping down his cheeks as Miles wept with me.

"I'm... sorry..." Miles whispered brokenly, the painful lump in his throat growing larger. "I'm... so _very_... sorry... I... I... _never _meant to hurt you like this, believe me..." I felt his grip on me tighten with the force of his emotions and I winced slightly. "I'm so sorry, Phoenix... I never meant to... I should _never _have put you through what I did..." I felt Miles' body jerk a little and realized, with some surprise, that he was crying which was something I usually _never_ saw him do.

I felt torn. I was still furious with him for abandoning me without a word but he was doing his best, the best that he could, to make amends for that now; somehow, it just _didn't_ feel like it was enough and anguish filled me. On the one hand, I wanted to hold him close now that I knew that he was sorry for what he had done and regretted it; on the other, I wanted to thrust him as far away from me as I could.

My hands trembled as I felt his grip on me tighten, no doubt fully aware of the thoughts that were tumbling, one over the other, in my mind. I couldn't be so cold to him-I loved him, after all, despite what he'd done-even though everything within me wanted to lash out at him to punish him for all the pain, anguish and heartache he'd forced me to endure all these years; I wanted to hurt him like he'd hurt me.

I felt sick for even feeling that way but I couldn't deny the truth; it was how I honestly was feeling and, base and despicable as it might be, I could say that, at this point in time, honestly and with conviction, that I hated him with the force of my being for what he'd done to me, for what he'd put me through. He may have been sorry now but, at the time three years earlier, he _hadn't _hesitated to run away and leave me alone when he couldn't deal with his demons any longer.

My eyes narrowed, my mouth tightening into a thin, angry line as I grabbed his wrist, tearing it away from my arm with a violence that stunned both Miles and myself. Until this moment, I hadn't realized just _how _angry I was and, as I faced him, my face a blazing mask of rage, he trembled in my grasp, his red-rimmed eyes widened in shock and painful surprise, his pale skin flushing. I hesitated for a brief moment before the full force of my fury broke through and found cruel expression.

My face twisted into a mask of pure anger, my teeth literally grinding together as I felt my fingernails digging into my palms; everything I wanted to say to him came flying out of my mouth, hurtful and angry words slamming into him with the force of hurricane winds shouted at the top of my lungs. I couldn't have stopped even if I'd wanted to and proceeded to unload three years of anger, frustration, pain and anguish on top of him. I wanted to crush him like a bug under my shoe just as he had done to me three years earlier and I wanted him to feel every drop of pain and anguish that I, myself, had felt.

He didn't move, standing stock still as a statue, never a flicker of emotion passing over his face save for a slight twitching at the corners of his mouth. His silence further enraged me, stoking my anger and rage higher, and hotter, than it had been before. I couldn't stop the ugly, nasty words that came out of my mouth nor could I control the wave of pure hate for him that flowed through me.

I didn't want to even touch him anymore and I threw him away from me with revulsion and a shouted oath. I was surprised to see him fly backward and stumble as he sought to catch himself, his fingertips scraping the sodden earth briefly before he fell and landed on his side with a wet smack on the muddy ground. I stood there numbly, unable to believe the scene I could see playing out in front of my eyes while he struggled to get to his feet, slipping and sliding on the wet earth. When he was at last able to stand, his crisp white cravat was a sodden shade of grey, he had mud spatters all over his face and his magenta suit was splattered with mud.

I hadn't meant to throw him away so violently from me and I was just as stunned as he was when he flew backward but I still stood there unmoving as he struggled to get to his feet once again, my hands clenching into fists. When at last I found my voice I said, rage and venom clear in my tone, "I want you to go away, Miles; I _never_ want to see you again!"

The shock on Miles' face at that pronouncement tore at my heart but I steeled myself not to care. He'd done too much damage to our relationship with his deception and I couldn't find it in myself to forgive him and, at this point, I could say, in all honesty, that I hated him.

"Phoenix..." he implored, reaching out a hand to me that I smacked out of the way with a hard blow, wincing at the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh, "_please_... I... don't..."

"I no longer care _what _you want or _don't _want, Miles," I returned coldly, my blue eyes narrowing as I took a shaky step away from him, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible, "and the fact that you feel that you're entitled to an explanation after what you did is abominable." I looked right into his face as I said this, and he gasped to see the anger and rage boiling up within me _very _plain in both my body language and the expression on my face. "You are _no_ longer my concern and I want nothing more to do with you from now on."

"But-" Miles began but I cut him off ruthlessly, trying to ignore the pain in his grey eyes. He swallowed hard and tried again, his pale face flushing crimson. "Phoenix, please! Please let me explain! Don't... I... _don't_ want... what we have... I _don't_... want it to end..."

I shook my head in the negative, squeezing my eyes tightly shut.

"It's a little late for that now, Miles," I rejoined tartly, "and I don't believe a word of it. You left me alone for all of those years, tearing myself into little bits every day in despair that I couldn't stop you from taking your life."

My eyes flew open, anger, pain and hate mingling in a toxic mix as I stared at him. I could see the corners of Miles' mouth twitching once more in a nervous tic but I struggled to ignore it as I spoke the words that would separate us forever. "It's... over between us, Miles. I... _can't ... _forgive you for what you did nor can I _ever_ forgive the betrayal. You let me think you were dead for three years; _how _do you expect me to just get over that and pretend it never happened?"

"Phoenix..."

I shook my head once again as my voice broke and I silently cursed myself for my weakness; I couldn't afford to let him see how much it hurt me to cast him out of my life. "You spent three years away from me during which time you could, had you chosen to do so, contacted me to let me know that you were indeed alive and well but you _didn't!_ _You _let _me_ go on thinking that _you _were dead; you never once, in all of that time, contacted me somehow to let me know that you were alive!" I stopped for a moment to compose myself before going on. "How could you do that to me? I _thought_ you loved me!"

The barb hit home and I saw him wince. "I...I... did love you, Phoenix..." he stammered, his eyes wide and pleading. "I mean I... still... _do._.."

I snorted, my face twisting into a caricature of a smile.

"You have a funny way of showing it, Miles," I said coldly, trying to keep myself together long enough to tell him off before I completely broke down. He said nothing but stood there, his head down, his arms hanging limply at his side.

I could feel my heart break within me as I said these words that would tear us apart forever but I had no choice; he'd betrayed me in the most painful way possible and I _couldn't _forgive him for what he'd done. I'd loved him ... and he'd betrayed me much the same as Dahlia Hawthorne had all those years ago.

"Phoenix..." Miles' voice came out as a strangled whisper, his hand once again extended in supplication but, as I had before, I ignored it, shaking my head.

"Just... _go_," I whispered brokenly, tears spilling down my face and mixing with the cold rain droplets that had begun to fall in a steady stream, "just... _go_, Miles. I never, _ever_, want to see you again!"

"Phoenix... please," Miles begged, his eyes wide and beseeching, "please..."

"Just go!" I barked, turning my back on him and beginning to walk away. "Go! I_ never _want to see you again! Get out! Get out of my life!"

Miles looked at the ground, his face a miasma of warring expressions. I had to force myself to look away because I could no longer bear to see the pained and hurt expression that had plastered itself all over his face; my heart bled to see him in such pain but, as I firmly reminded myself over and over, _he_ had brought this upon_ himself_. He was now paying the price for _his _deception in full.

"You _had _your chance," I continued in an icy, biting monotone, "and_ you _chose to keep _me_ in the dark." I turned slowly to look at him, my face a mask of agonizing pain, my voice rising with every word that was torn from me. "_Why_ didn't you tell me that you were alive? _Why_ did you choose to keep that a secret? Why, Miles? _Why_?"

Miles hung his head. "I had my reasons," he mumbled, unable to meet my gaze and I had to lean in a bit closer in order to hear him. "I...didn't... want to hurt you... I... I... didn't mean... to... hurt you..."

"But you did!" I broke in, my voice thick with tears and anger, clenching my hands into fists once again so hard that they, quite literally, hurt from the pressure I was putting on them "You let me go on thinking that you were dead! How could you let that go on for that long?_ How_ could you let me think you were dead when you _weren't_?"

Miles stood there, his hands hanging limply by his side, his head lowered, his shoulders slumped. The rain was coming down much harder now and I could dimly see a comma of wet, grey hair that hung over his left eye. It took all the self-control I had not to rush to his side, smooth that wet, dripping lock out of his eye and hold him close to me, comforting him with sweet words and precious kisses.

How could I feel that way toward the man who had betrayed me? How could I just dismiss the fact that he'd lied to me and deceived me for three long years? I was weakening... and I knew it.

_::_**Remember what he did to you,**_:: _the silken voice in the back of my mind purred when it looked like I would break and go to him,_ ::_**and also**** keep in mind that that he betrayed you.**_:: The voice gave a disbelieving snort. ::_**What kind of man lets someone he's supposedly in love with go on believing that he is dead when he isn't?**_:: _The corners of my mouth twitched and I could feel my entire body vibrating with emotions I was trying desperately to suppress although I couldn't disagree with _what_ was being said. ::**He didn't even bother to get in contact with you to let you know that he was alive.** How** can you believe anything that lying bastard says?**_::_

_He has a point, there. I hate to admit it but he's right. _I sighed, kicking the ground hard with the toe of my shoe._ Damn it._

_::_**He'll do and say **anything** to ingratiate himself in your good graces once again**_,:: _the voice persisted_, _more insistently this time_, ::_**so why are you giving him the chance to hurt you? Cut him loose, Phoenix. He's not worth the pain he's caused and will cause you in the future; you're better off without him.**_::_

_Yes, I _am _better off without him. Why should I give him another chance when its clear that he doesn't deserve it? _My hands clenched into fists._ To hell with him and all his lies! _

A surge of hate poured through me and I stalked back to where the bouquet of tulips, masticated by the driving rain, lay. I bent over, snatched the sorry remnants off of the muddy ground and marched back to where Miles stood, mute and frightened. I glared at him as I practically threw it at him, watching impassively, or trying to, at least, as it hit him in the chest before falling, in a heap of sodden lamé paper and battered petals, onto the wet ground. Miles looked down at the tangled mess at his feet in bewilderment before lifting his bowed head. I saw his eyes, all of hell in them, as he looked sorrowfully at me.

"Goodbye, Miles," I said through clenched teeth as I spun and made my way out of the cemetery, leaving him standing there, alone, in front of the old wooden bridge, "I trust we'll _never_ meet again..."

If he made any response, I didn't hear it as I ran from there as fast as I could. I managed to make it to the main cemetery gate before the tears started falling so thickly that I could barely see where I was going. My fingers clung to the metal scroll work as I wept, the fading image of Miles seared into my memory.

_We could have been so happy together, Miles_, I thought in despair, my forehead falling forward to press against the elegant metallic roses and vines that were scrolled into the gate, _but you chose to leave. _I clenched my left hand into a fist and rained down blows on the gate which creaked and moaned in protest until my hand bled._ Why? Why did you ruin it all? Why couldn't you have told me that you were alive instead of pretending that you were dead?_

Mewls of pain bubbled up from deep within me as my head reared back and, looking up into the blinding rain, screamed like a tortured animal, my primal cries echoing within the silent cemetery. My heart broke within me as I screamed my pain and rage to an uncaring sky, my soul splintering again into a million pieces as I clung to the metal gate, the rain pelting me from all sides, the groaning of the trees becoming a raging cacophony in my aching heart.

_WHY? Why, Miles? Why?  
_

I don't even remember how I got home that night; all I can remember is standing, heart sore and soaked to the skin, on the front porch of the house that we had once shared together, memories of the distant past rising up from the ashes once again, breaking my heart anew.


	14. Chapter 14

_Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, Franziska von Karma and Adrian Andrews don't belong to me; they belong to CAPCOM. The plot, however, is mine. :^)  
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_A/N: This story is not connected to_ _"All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first. :)  
__**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_It looks like the end of their relationship is now a fact and not a possibility. Phoenix has made it quite clear to Miles that he doesn't want anything to do with him but Miles refuses to give up and he is determined to make things right, no matter how long it takes or the cost. However, once he spies Phoenix through the master bedroom window, Miles comes to a horrifying realization: no matter_ how _sorry he is for running away, it may be much _too_ late to repair the damage he inflicted...  
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Chapter 14! Wow, this is going along quite nicely as far as the writing sphere is concerned! :) I'm happy with the direction it's taking-though I think I need to work out a few more events that keep cropping up in my head! :D -and it's moving along at a speed I'm happy with. :)

Poor Miles! He's realizing now that there's just some things you can't make better simply by just showing up again and apologizing! He's really got his work cut out for him to try and make things right! Will he succeed? Time will tell...

I split the action into two different P.O.V's, Miles' and Phoenix's, to show what each was dealing with and feeling at different times the night of November 20th. Each is dealing with their own personal demons in their own way although both are hurting and in pain; I hope that I've shown that properly along with all the other conflicting feelings and actions. Poor boys...

I took a little bit-okay, _more_ than a little bit-of poetic license with the gilt frame groaning and twisting as it hits the wall after Phoenix threw it. I don't think that it really would but it was too good an image for me to pass up as it symbolizes, perfectly in my opinion, Phoenix's and Miles' relationship as it stands _now_: shattered, in pieces and wrecked. Quite an image!

That being said, I hope that you all enjoy this chapter which will be the last one for a bit while I get caught up on all my other writing projects! [or, more reasonably, try to! :D ] I have two stories for Halloween on the go-one PxE and the other for the October assignment for the_"_IamMatthewianProject_**" **_club I belong to on dA-numerous other things to catch up on-such as chapter 10 of "Little Place of Forgetting," chapter 3 of "Dream Within A Dream,"chapter 5 of"Turnabout Antiquity," a story for "God's Forsaken" that I'm doing on y!Gallery and various other stories that have been waiting in the wings forever and a day... I'm also beta reading. **-whew!- **Lots to do! :D

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :)

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
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_November 20th  
Meadow Gardens Cemetery  
Los Angeles, CA  
8 P.M._

_Miles stood there in the pouring rain, his heart broken into a thousand bleeding pieces, looking numbly at the puddle that was beginning to fill up at his feet. His arms were lying lifelessly by his side, water dripping from his trench-coat and from his hair. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut in a vain effort to keep the tears he could feel welling up in check but this was a hopeless venture, at best, as he discovered when he began to feel the steady trickle begin to travel down his cheeks. The crash of thunder and crackle of lightning that broke out overhead some moments ago echoed in his mind as he stood there, pent-up emotion struggling to find desperate release and that he was trying to suppress._

_So that was it, then. _Everything _he had feared would happen _had _and now he was left with a broken heart and a numb mind swirling with questions that he had no answers to. Or none that he wanted to admit had answers._

_He sighed deeply. What _had _he been expecting, exactly? That Phoenix would forgive the lies and deception he'd spun for three years and just fall into his arms again when he saw him? He'd been a fool-_was _a fool-to think that this would even be _remotely _possible after all this time and _all _that had happened between them._

_He hung his head as he stood in the darkened cemetery on that old, wooden bridge, wondering how everything could have gone wrong so fast. He'd wanted to mend fences with Phoenix, to see if he could repair the damage he'd caused by his deception but, as he had seen for himself with heart-breaking clarity, _that_ hope had _all _but been extinguished. _

_He'd accepted that as just punishment; after what he'd done, after he'd deceived the one person he loved more than anyone else in the world, how could he have ever expected that he _could _be, or _would_ be, forgiven?_

_Miles sighed once again as he looked up into the black, starless sky, the driving rain pelting him painfully in the face. He made no move to raise his arm or lower his head; he stood there in silence for some time, his mind racing and his heart broken. He'd been dreaming of this moment for over two years and now all that was left was a nightmare. Phoenix _hadn't_ forgiven him for what he'd done and, as far as he was concerned, the_ sooner _Miles disappeared again, the _better_ he'd like it._

_But, was that really the truth? He knew that Phoenix was hurt-he really couldn't blame him for that-but did he really mean what he'd said or was it just the hurt and pain talking? Before Phoenix had turned away from him, he'd seen the flash of agony in his eyes that was gone so quickly Miles wasn't sure if he had only imagined it. _

Could it be...? Could it_ possibly b_e...? _Miles' brow furrowed as he mulled this new piece of evidence over in his mind._ Maybe this_ isn't_ the end, after all._ He felt his heart beginning to beat faster as a new hope rose within him_. Maybe there still_ is_ a chance that we can work things out.

_As he thought of it, he felt new hope rising within him. It was, as he well knew, a long shot but it was worth it to try and salvage the situation if he could; he wanted nothing more than to have Phoenix back at his side once again and he was willing to do what it took if there was a chance that he could make things right again._

_With a considerably lighter heart, Miles turned and walked briskly toward the main cemetery gate, ignoring the fact that he was soaking wet as he made his way over to his car, took the key out of his pocket, opened the door and quickly got in, slamming the door impatiently but excitedly behind him._

I don't know if I can make things right with him_, he thought as he pushed the key into the ignition, twisting it quickly and smiling as it roared into life instantly, _but I'm willing to try. _His eyes misted and __he scrubbed them away with an impatient swipe._ I _don't _want to lose him; without him, life isn't worth living and I've had my fill of pain and regrets.

_He grasped the steering wheel hard in his hands as he pressed on the accelerator, gravel shooting out from the back wheels as they spun on the pavement, the car nosing forward as he shot out of the cemetery parking lot._

_He chewed on his lower lip as he roared through the driving rain in the pitch blackness, leaning forward in his seat in order to be able to see through the windshield, his eyes narrowed in concentration. _

_The windshield wipers tapped out a hypnotizing rhythm as they swept back and forth across the glass and Miles found his thoughts drifting back to his confrontation with Phoenix. He couldn't forget the heart-wrenching agony that had been on his face when he'd realized that he really _had_ come back, that he really _was _alive and well. How could he have been so foolish as to think that Phoenix would be able to get past it when, as he had so adequately and chillingly proven, that he could not at this point in time?_

_Miles shook his head impatiently, refocusing his thoughts on the road. It wouldn't do, after all, to get into an accident on the way to see his beloved and the last thing that Miles wanted was to cause him any kind of pain. It was the least he could do._

I'm coming, Phoenix; you're _too _important to me to give up.

_The dark night seemed to mock him as Miles raced down the highway, his heart hammering with both dread and a sense of hope. Perhaps he could make this right; perhaps the past could be forgiven and forgotten and perhaps they could move on from here. _

I won't rest until I've made things right, Phoenix. I promise I'll do everything I can to make it up to you and prove to you that I _do_ love you! All I'm asking for is the chance. _He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again._ I love you, Phoenix; I'll _never_ stop loving you!

_He certainly hoped they could and it was this hope that sustained him throughout that long night down that never ending road..._

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_November 20th  
Phoenix Wright Residence  
9 P.M._

I raced blindly into the house, my eyes swimming with tears. I fumbled with the key in the lock as I tried desperately to push it in; I brushed my eyes impatiently with my free hand so I could see what I was doing and, at last, finally managed to push the key into the lock. I turned it quickly, threw open the door and raced in, slamming it hard behind me, my chest heaving with sobs.

I turned and leaned against the door, thinking that this was exactly the same thing that I had done three years ago, only it was at my office. The blinding tears... the hard turning of the key in the door... the fumbling with the lock... it was all the same. Nothing had changed since then only now I knew that Miles was alive and had been for three years. What hurt me the most was that he didn't try to contact me; he'd said he'd had his reasons but I couldn't for the life of me fathom what those reasons _could_ possibly be.

_Why did you have to come back just when I had found some measure of peace? Why couldn't you have stayed dead? Damn you, Miles Edgeworth! Damn you! I wish you had!_

I balled my fist and struck the door as hard as I could, gasping in pain and tears springing into my eyes as I felt the pain wash over me like a blessed balm, driving out all other considerations. I hit it again and again, over and over, screaming out my pain with every blow.

It seemed like an eternity as I struck the door with hard blows, each one seeming to land harder than the one before it. My throat ached since I'd screamed myself hoarse, the only sound I was able to make now was a sorrowful mewl; my fist ached from the repeated blows but my rage and pain drove me on until I could stand it no longer and collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor, my arm thrown over my eyes.

I don't know how long I sat there huddled up against the door but it was dark when I came back to myself, lifting my head wearily to look into the pitch blackness in the outside area beyond the window. I sniffled and then winced as I flexed my right hand, pain shooting through me like a knife. I cradled my injured hand against my chest, scrunching my eyes shut and toppling over onto the floor, my lips moving silently.

_Miles... _I tried to ignore the stab of pain that shot through my heart and hand at the same time, tears raining down my face._ Why, Miles? Why...? We could have been happy together but you destroyed that hope and, in the process, my heart and soul. I loved you more than my own life so why did you leave me and then deceive me for all those years. _I moaned sorrowfully, swallowing hard, the left side of my face pressed against the cool, tiled floor._ I don't think I'll ever understand why..._

I turned over on to my back, my head thrashing back and forth, painful sobs being torn from deep within me once again, my mouth working but with no sound emerging. It frightened me to see how close I'd come to the edge, precariously perched on the precipice, looking down into the yawning, chaotic abyss below.

My heart broke again, a fresh wave of pain and sorrow coursing through my body, at the thought of all those wasted years of being alone when we could have been together. I loved him and, truth be known, I still _did _but what exactly did _that _love mean? It_ hadn't _been enough to bring Miles back to my side; it _hadn't _been enough for him to contact me to let me know that he was still alive so what did it really mean? I wasn't at all certain but even bigger questions loomed:_ Why _had he decided to come back _now_ after all these years and not a year or two earlier and _what _was it that had precipitated his return three years after his supposed "death?"

I mulled over the questions in my mind for awhile before I came to the inevitable conclusion.

_It means _nothing_._ I closed my eyes, swallowing over the lump in my throat. _It means absolutely _nothing_ to him, it appears, but it does to me. Damn it... I wish it _didn't _hurt so much! I wish I could just forget him and move on... it would be so much easier if I could! _I chuckled sorrowfully, a low, moaning chuckle that sounded hollow in my ears and echoing in my empty heart. _You'll never be free of him, Phoenix... not even if you lived to be a hundred! Your heart is _his_ and that's _not_ likely to change, no matter _what he's _done! _

I slowly turned my head to face the opposite wall, my eyes red rimmed and sore. I lay there for some time, emotionally drained and unable to move since I didn't have any energy to move, wishing that the ground would open up under me and swallow me. I couldn't take much more of this and I was nearing my limit.

_God, how I hate him right now! I wish I could destroy the hold he has on me; then I would be free of him for good! _

I slowly picked myself up off of the floor, new energy racing through me with this fresh wave of hateful emotions and, once I was able to stand, I headed for the bedroom. I knew _exactly_ what I was looking for and, when I made my way into the bedroom that we had once shared together, I went right for the night side table that was on my side of the bed.

My hand shot out, grabbed the photograph of Miles and myself that stood there and it was with mixed emotions that I looked at it for a few moments in silence, my free hand clenching and unclenching into a fist.

I couldn't stop the wave of memories that flowed through me like a tidal wave as I clutched the frame in a shaking hand: Miles and myself as children, playing together at his house while his father watched from the living room, a proud smile on his face; Miles and I at school, laughing over a hundred different things; Miles and I after we'd met again as adults; Miles and I falling in love... I couldn't have stopped them even if I'd tried and, although I _did_ try to stem the tide, it was useless as more memories of him came to the forefront of my mind.

With a scream of rage and pain, I hurled the frame away from me as hard as I could, shivering with pent-up emotion as the gilt frame sailed across the room and smashed into the wall opposite. Glass splintered into a million pieces as it shattered, the groaning of twisting metal seeming to echo in the silent room as it hit the floor, bouncing twice with a loud clatter before it lay still.

I stood there for a few moments, my breath torn from me in loud, ragged gasps. I couldn't believe what I had done, staring stupidly at the twisted wreckage for some time; when I was finally able to think again, rage replaced amazement.

"Go to hell, Miles Edgeworth!" I cried, grasping the sides of my head in my hands, rocking back and forth and keening sorrowfully. "Go to hell! I never, **EVER**, want to see you again, do you hear me? I **NEVER** want to see you again!" I stood up straight, my tortured face a twisted mask of rage and pain. "**I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN**!"

Sobs racked my body as I stumbled toward the bed, my body shaking violently as I tumbled headfirst onto it, my sock feet scraping the floor as I fell. I hit the bed hard, my head snapping back momentarily, the rest of me soon following. I buried my face in the thick comforter as I cried, pain and sorrow washing over me.

_When will this end?_ my mind cried, my soul shattered beyond all repair. _When will this end? _

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_November 20th_  
_Outside Phoenix Wright's Residence, At The Master Bedroom Window  
11 P.M._

_Miles stood outside on the lawn of what had once been his and Phoenix's home together, trying to control the trembling he could feel throughout his entire body. His eyes darted nervously about the lawn, as if he were afraid that someone would catch him and demand to know what he was doing there. He swallowed hard, his heart beginning to beat faster, his palms beginning to sweat; in truth though he dreaded his discovery along with the eventual questioning, there was no doubt that he would answer such a question honestly: he was here to watch his one-time lover because he couldn't bear to let him go. _

That_ was the plain, simple truth of the matter: he_ couldn't_ let Phoenix go and he had no desire to. He was deeply in love with him and he wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of his life. Looking back, he now wished that he had had the courage three years earlier to confide in Phoenix, to share his suffering and to confront his demons with the one person he knew would stand by him, come what may. He wished he'd trusted both Phoenix and his love_

_His eyes once more drew back to the master bedroom and he swallowed hard as his head swiveled to that part of the house, his feet soon following. _

_He strode silently into the front yard, his heart constricting as he heard the muffled wails and sobs coming from within, wincing as he heard the sharp crack of shattering glass and the groan of twisting metal. _

_He knew that sound... and he knew what it signified. Phoenix _wasn't_ going to forgive him after all; his hopes had all come to nothing and he'd been effectively exorcised out of Phoenix's life as neatly as a surgeon's cut._

_He had to accept that, this time, there would be no miracle, no coming together to forget the past and, at last, to move on to a bright future together, to pick up where they had left off living their lives and start again... No, that was all over...and he had no one except himself to blame._

_Miles took a deep breath, slowly letting it out, watching it condense in the cold evening air in little puffs, his mind whirling with unhappy thoughts, sighing deeply. Why did he keep hoping for something he knew was probably never going to happen? Why did he keep clinging to something that had, for all intents and purposes, slipped through his fingers?_

_He _had _to face facts. As much as he hated to do so, he had to, for his own sake and peace of mind. The swell of hope he'd felt in the cemetery had now evaporated once confronted with this newest meltdown. Phoenix _would_ not-_could _not-ever forgive him for what he'd done._

There is _no_ hope_, he thought morosely, closing his eyes and lowering his head. Everything _I've hoped for, longed for all these years is all but a chimera, a dream, a hope that will never be fulfilled. _He lifted his gloved hand to his face, cradling it in his open palm. _

I _shouldn't_ have come back... _Miles thought, his heart aching as he stared at the twisted wreckage of the gilt frame that he could see from where he stood in the yard._ I _should _have stayed in the shadows and not come back out into the sunlight. _He lowered his head, stuffing his hands deep into his trench-coat pockets._ I wish I'd stayed away and never came back...

_He turned away from the window and slowly walked into the darkness, his heart broken and aching. All his hopes and all his dreams were for nothing and he felt emptier and more alone than he ever had in his life. He'd once had the world by the tail... and he'd lost it all in his foolish attempt to escape the world, his life that was increasingly intolerable and the one he loved. He'd been a fool... and now he was paying the price for his deceptions in full._

_The darkness swallowed Miles as he turned the corner and slowly made his way down the darkened street, his mind and soul in turmoil. He had no idea where he was going as he really had_ nowhere _else to go. He supposed he could board with Franziska and Adrian for awhile if he had to until he got himself back on his feet and figured out what he was going to do but, even as he thought of it, he shook his head violently. _

_He couldn't bring himself to do that even though he knew that neither Franziska nor Adrian would mind and that they would both be happy to have him stay with them for as long as he needed to; no, what bothered him was that there would inevitably be questions, put forth more by Franziska than Adrian, about _why _he'd disappeared in the first place, _why _he hadn't told her where he was going before he disappeared and _what _it was that brought him back into the world after three years out of it. _

_He couldn't bear those kinds of prying questions at this point in time and he really wasn't up to answering them; he hurt _too _much right now to want to look inside himself and deal with the emotional turmoil and pain he was currently experiencing._

_All_ I want is a little peace... is _that_ too much to ask?

_Since staying with Franziska and Adrian was out of the question, where else could he go? He'd placed _all_ his hopes in a reconciliation with Phoenix but since that was no longer a possibility, he didn't have anywhere else he could reasonably go to. _

_He'd shaken the dust from his feet, proverbially speaking, when he'd run away from everything, and everyone, that Los Angeles presented three years earlier; it didn't seem like there was a place for him here anymore, or anywhere else, for that matter._

_The rain had long since stopped but he felt empty and hollow as he turned the corner, wincing as he stepped in one of the many puddles that lined the sidewalk. __He was a lonely soul adrift in the cold and uncaring sea of the world, unanchored and drifting aimlessly, with _no _land in sight and _no_ port waiting to welcome him home.  
_

It's _too_ late, _he told himself mournfully, looking up at the black, starless sky before continuing his sorrowful trek,_ it's _much_ too late...


	15. Interlude 2

_A/N: This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first.  
_

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**

_Robert Boone is back and enjoying a snack at Aldeane's Diner as he has for the past three years. Tonight is Halloween night and secrets, like heartburn, have a nasty habit of resurfacing when you least expect it..._

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Chapter 15 at last! It's taken me some time to figure out how to bridge the gap between chapter 14 and 15 and I hope that this will suffice. :) I'm working on chapter 16 which returns to the action a day after the confrontation between Miles and Phoenix. I'm making this one a priority since I want to get chapter 16 up as soon as possible; you've waited long enough for an update and I am sorry it's taken me so long to do so-darn other stuff and wb!-and thank you for your patience.

Boone is back and he's as rotten as ever! He really _is_ an evil, misogynistic, sociopathic jerk-not to mention a dirty old man!-who always blames everyone else for his troubles and never himself. It's been six days since Amy Carstairs' brutal death and he seems to take pleasure in that-not a surprise, really; he's one sick bastard!-and, of course, he blames her for forcing him to kill her. His carefully crafted mask is slipping somewhat, showing a glimpse of the monster he is inside which causes some consternation to two waitresses who've worked at the diner he's been frequenting for the past three years; they thought they knew him but who really knows a sociopath? He's a _very_ good pretender since he really doesn't feel any emotion although he explodes into a blind rage when he's thwarted or something, or someone, irritates him. I hope that this comes through clearly as does his sick and twisted thoughts, words and reactions. He really is something else... and it's _not_ good.

Hope you enjoy the bridge! :)

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :) *I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :) *

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth, Some Strong Language

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_October 31st  
Halloween Night  
Aldeane's All Night Diner  
Los Angeles, CA  
8:00 P.M._

_Robert sat alone in a corner booth furthest away from the door, sipping his black coffee slowly, savoring every drop that slid easily down his throat. He sighed with pleasure, closing his eyes and relishing the flavor of the dark roasted brew. His free hand rested lightly on the top of the formica tabletop and he leaned back in the buttery soft leather booth seat, a wide smile and a sigh of contentment._

_He'd had some errands to run this evening and had decided to drop into the diner for his usual repast which, admittedly, Aldeane Prescott did better than _anyone_ in Los Angeles: apple pie with a thick slice of mild cheddar. He'd acquired this taste when he was a boy; his mother had been a first rate cook-and it brought back some very pleasant memories of the many times he'd devoured this treat in the sunlit kitchen under his mother's loving gaze tinged with bitterness at his mother's untimely death when he was thirteen. _

_He hadn't thought of his mother in over two decades and, as he reached out to grab the handle of the diner's door, he wondered what it was that had brought her back into his mind. He supposed that it was the very fact that tonight was Halloween, bringing out ghosts, goblins and all manner of long legged beasties along with children dressed in their Halloween best and going trick or treating. _

_He smiled when he saw a young woman holding the hand of a ghost and a witch on either side of her, clutching their plastic pumpkin buckets, watching them as they walked at a brisk pace down the dimly lit street, disappearing around the corner. He noted that their pails looked nearly full to bursting; they'd obviously had had a good time trick and treating and he couldn't help thinking of how many years had it been since he had last gone out himself on Halloween night. Two decades, at least, if not more, give or take. _

_He looked at the assortment of cheerfully carved pumpkins as they lined the windowsill on the inside window of the diner that faced the bustling street, candles cheerfully flickering deep within their scooped out shells. Intermittent wheat stalks, bunches of maize corn tied together with brown twine and smaller gourds and pumpkins with painted faces on them dotted the spaces in-between; on the whole, it was a very attractive display and with the strand of bright orange lights ringed around the window, it gave a wonderful effect. It was certainly keeping in the spirit of the season._

Aldeane sure knows how to celebrate a holiday_, he thought to himself, a wide smile spreading over his face as he stood there looking at the window display, ignoring the bustling pedestrian traffic passing behind him._ It's no wonder I like coming here... that and she has, indisputably, the _best _food in all of Los Angeles.

_He pulled the door open, walking quickly inside, the door closing silently behind him, wiping his feet on the thick dark red carpet that lined the foyer of the diner and headed for his usual spot near the back, his shoes making faint "clicking" sounds on the white and black checkered tile floor. He'd kept to himself since he'd come in but the waitresses who worked the night shift, Deirdre, Shelley, Moira and Leslie, waved at him as he walked in and his lifted his hand in silent acknowledgement to their chorused greeting of "_Evening, Mr. Boone!_" _

_Once he'd arrived at the booth and slid into the seat, he'd ordered his usual-coffee and a slice of apple pie with a thick slice of cheddar cheese on top-and sat quietly until Moira came by, putting it down on the table before him, a cheeky smile gracing her pink-lipsticked mouth. He smiled at her; she was quite an attractive young woman and he enjoyed both talking with her _and_ looking at her. _

_Lithe, slim with bronze-tinged skin, waist length blonde hair pulled back into a serviceable braid and twinkling violet eyes with a cheeky sense of humor and biting wit, Moira had a way about her that made her one of his favorite liked Leslie and Shelly, too, but it was Moira that he preferred over the others. She was easy to talk to, and knowledgeable in many subjects which he found, to his surprise and pleasure, definitely made her more attractive. He couldn't help but think that she had plenty of admirers, not that he was seriously angling for her hand. No, there would be no other woman other than his Helen for him and, now that she was gone, he was content to remain as he was._

She _can't_ compare to Helen_, he thought morosely, his smile quivering for a moment as Moira chattered on about the book she was reading for one of her history classes at the local community college, _no one can. She was one of a kind in a place all her own... _He took a deep breath while Moira continued to talk. _Yes, _she_ was an original; there will never be another like her again.

That_ was all it really came down to, in the end; _no one _could compare to _his_ Helen and it was with mingled sadness and regret that he remembered that _he_ had been directly responsible for her violent death. His eyebrow raised, nodding politely at the one-sided conversation he was having with the waitress; it was odd, he mused, shifting slightly on the seat to make himself more comfortable. _

_After he'd murdered Helen six days earlier, he felt more empowered than he had at any other time in his life and, yet, in quiet moments of which there had been too many lately for his comfort, he missed her terribly, an ache inside him that made itself known every now and again. There had been great excitement once her body had been discovered; patrons at the diner were positively buzzing with the latest juicy rumors and news. _

_He'd been at the diner, eating his usual apple pie and cheddar, after the story broke and was puzzled as to why everyone was so interested in what was happening. He could hear it in the animated chatter that buzzed like a beehive full of bees around him and wondered why it should generate such interest. True, he had killed his Helen over a week earlier but he had no more thought than that to it; _she'd_ been the one who started the trouble in the first place, she'd been the one who'd made the mistake. He had merely finished it once and for all._

"Can you believe it?"_ he heard a disbelieving voice ask and saw, out of the corner of his eye, a middle-aged woman, Mrs. Martin, and her folder by three years friend, Mrs. Lange, scurrying by his booth with mincing steps. _"It happened right _here_ in Los Angeles... and at her _own _home!"

"I know!" _Mrs. Lange responded, her eyes as wide as saucers as the two women quickened their pace_. "We're not even safe in our own homes anymore!" _There had been more of these kind of comments in the same vein, more or less, in the next five groups of people that passed by his table._

_Robert sniffed, a smirk spreading across his face as he put the fork into his mouth, savoring the apple pie with the mild tang of the cheddar as he watched them all scurry by like frightened mice. Yes, _that_ was what Mrs. Martin, Mrs. Lange and the various people who had passed by his table reminded him of: mice under the cruel eye of an inexorable, hunting cat. The image amused him and he chuckled quietly to himself, cutting another forkful of the tasty pie and cheddar and chewing with gusto._

"What's so funny, Mr. Boone?" _Leslie asked as she passed by, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Robert looked at her, a slight smile on his face._

"Oh, nothing," _he replied breezily, cutting another piece and putting it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing. _"I just thought of something..." _He paused for a moment as he took another bite, chewing thoughtfully._ "_Amusing_, that's all."

If _you _only knew, my dear...

_Leslie grinned wickedly, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. She enjoyed poking fun at Mrs. Martin and her friends since they were so much fun to tease; being of old family, with old money, they took their dignity much _too _seriously for any of the waitress' liking who never wasted an opportunity to make fun of them behind their backs. _

_Robert was always in on the joke although he wondered if Mrs. Martin and her clique ever realized the contempt in which they were held by the staff, _and _owner, of the diner. They hid it well, he had to admit._

I doubt they would even understand,_ he thought savagely, his thoughts taking a darker turn, Helen's battered body coming to the forefront of his mind. He quickly pushed that image to the furthest recesses of his mind; his mouth thinned for a moment as he thought of people like Mrs. Martin and Mrs. Lange before relaxing back into his charming smile once again. _Much less care _what _those _they _considered to be beneath them _really_ thought. They are _quite _the pathetic pair... _everyone's_ laughing at _them _and they're too stupid, or blind, to get that _they _are the _real _joke!

"It _must_ have been pretty good," _she remarked airily_, "since you had such an evil grin plastered all over your face."

"Did I?" _he asked innocently, doing his best impersonation of the classic "_Who, me?_" innocent look, a lopsided grin spreading over his face. He knew full well that he looked guilty but he couldn't resist teasing her a little. She could take a joke._

_Leslie laughed. _"You _don't_ fool _me_ for a minute, Mr. Boone; _you_ have the _worst_ innocent look I've_ ever_ seen!" _She leaned in, a conspiratorial look on her face. _"It's even worse than _mine_!"

"You don't say!" _he replied teasingly, exaggerating a look of horror that only made her laugh harder. _"Well, I do think that I should work on that in the future. I simply can't have people seeing through me, can I?"

"Of course, Mr. Boone," _she replied, chuckling quietly as she moved out of the way to let a family of six pass by and greeting each one with a friendly smile as they did so, _"and I look forward to seeing you try; I suspect that it will be most... _entertaining..._ to see!"

_He smiled that savage smile again briefly before it once again quickly disappeared. _You think so, do you, young lady? We'll see about that. Helen _always _tried to best _me_ and she _never _could; why do you think that you could, seeing as how you're not even one iota smarter than she was? _The image of her body once more infiltrated his mind and he pushed it away savagely; this unwarranted intrusion was getting on his nerves_. And look where it got _her._.. _He chuckled, a sharp, nasty tone that was lost on Leslie as she winked at him. _No, dear child, _you're_ a _very_ foolish girl if you think _you_ can best _me _so easily... Dear, dear Helen was definitely _your_ superior in the intelligence department and she never could best me, no matter how hard she tried.

_Leslie was chattering away but he didn't hear her as his thoughts turned, to his chagrin, once again to Helen. He'd been doing that a lot lately in the six days since her death and he wasn't exactly certain why that was; for some reason, he _couldn't_ keep the image of her battered body out of his mind. _

_It was puzzling. He had no regrets:_ she'd _brought her own death upon _herself _and, therefore, _he_ was exonerated of _all _blame so why did she keep slipping into his mind so frequently? He hadn't really thought about her all that much for some time before he killed her but it was her threat to go to the police that had made him break the silent acquiescence that they had observed for the past twenty years._

_He didn't know and that was beginning to bother him a little; he'd have to keep himself under tight control, to make sure that _nothing _slipped that _shouldn't_ and that the secrets of the past stay buried once and for all..._

_His lip curled, his fingers curling around the cloth napkin that he held in his hand, squeezing tightly, lost in his thoughts and memories. Leslie had stopped talking some time before when she noticed that she no longer had his attention and stared, her green eyes wide open, down at the hand holding the napkin. It seemed like he was doing his level best to_ strangle_ it..._

_She_ should never have _challenged _me..._ she _should have _listened _to _me_! There was _nothing_ to fear from all those years ago; I had a plan! The police were convinced that it _was_ an _accident _and no one would have been the wiser if _she _had just kept _her … _mouth … _shut_!

"Mr. Boone?" _she asked uncertainly, her voice quavering a bit, the words burbling up hesitatingly from deep inside her. _"Are-are you all right?"

Damned woman; they're **ALL **the same! Can't trust them...

"Mr. Boone?"

_Can't_ keep _them _in _their _place...

_She bit her lip_. "Mr. Boone, you're _really _starting to freak me out! Are you all right?"

_Can't._..

_She leaned over, looking into his eyes, concern wreathing her face._ "Mr. Boone? Hey, are you okay? You look _really _spaced out or somethin'..."

_Kill_...

"Mr. Boone! Please, answer me!" _Her voice sounded desperate and very scared. This _wasn't _the Mr. Boone that _she_ knew... The one she knew was friendly though quiet and kept to himself, not this snarling beast-like creature whose eyes blazed with a killing fury... "_Are you all right?! Do you need help? Do you need me to call someone?!"

_Them._..! _Can't...!_

"Mr. Boone! _Answer _me!"

"What?!" _he snarled, jerked out of his reverie, his hand shaking with the massive amount of pressure that he was putting on the napkin, looking somewhat confusedly up at the scared face of Leslie, now backing away from him, a look of pure fear on her face..._

_What's... _going... on...? _Why _is she...? _What _did I...? _He frowned, deep wrinkles creasing his forehead_. I... didn't... _hurt._.. her, did_ I._..? No, of course not! Why, the silly child is afraid of nothing! _What_ does _she_ have to fear from _me_...?

_The feral look faded from his face, to be replaced by a look of honest confusion as his fingers slowly, and painfully, loosened, the napkin falling with a soft whisper from his hand and landing silently on the table. _What _had happened that she was afraid and moving away from him? And _what _were all these people doing her, clustering around her?_

_He swallowed once, twice, three times. His mouth was so dry that he literally taste dust on his tongue and his eyes flickered from one concerned face to the next from the crowd of people that had formed a semi-circle in the space near his booth._

_He didn't like that; he _hated _it when people surrounded him, hated it all his life. It felt like he was suffocating when a crowd of people moved closer to him and, gasping, he'd literally fight his way out, pushing people pell mell in his eagerness to escape the crush._

"Leslie...?"_ he asked hoarsely, one shaking hand slowly lifting to touch his forehead, his eyes swiveling to look at her. _"What's... happened? Why... are you...?" _He couldn't continue._

_She had the grace to look embarrassed._

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Boone..."_ she said apologetically, some color returning to her white face and she took a halting step toward him. _"I... was talking to you and you weren't responding so I was afraid that something was wrong. Then, when you grabbed the napkin and started to... strangle it with this weird angry and feral look on your face, it _really _frightened me..."

_She hung her head in shame, as well she should, he thought nastily though his expression remained bland._ "I'm _really _sorry. Mr. Boone; I overreacted and made such a fool of myself..."_ She sniffled and lifted tear-stained eyes to look at him, her lips quivering slightly, shuffling from one foot to the other. _"Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, my dear child," _he said soothingly, reaching out and taking her hand, squeezing it in a friendly fashion, _"all is forgiven."_ He chuckled softly, deprecatingly. _"You must excuse an old man's fancy: when you get old, your mind tends to wander some and it goes to places that you've either forgotten about or haven' thought about for years. I just remembered something that I would have preferred to forget, that's all and I'm afraid that it made me quite angry." _He smiled what he hoped was a convincing smile and he was quite relieved when she seemed to accept his explanation, the crowd quietly melting away._

"That's okay, Mr. Boone," _she said, relief palpable in her voice, _"I'm sorry that I caused quite a scene by freaking out like that. I really don't know what came over me..."

"That's quite all right, my child." _He waved a hand airily, as if it were of _no _consequence. _"I had _no _idea that anything was wrong until I came out of my thoughts and realized that something wasn't _quite_ right." _He looked at her, a wide smile creasing over his face though his lips twitched at the corners, an action he quickly suppressed. _"I'm lucky to have such a thoughtful young lady looking out for me and I thank you." _She positively preened with the compliment-as he suspected she would; her kind always did-and blushed slightly when he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gallantly and let it drop after he'd given her another friendly squeeze. _

_They made some more small talk for a few more minutes until he said regretfully that he had to go soon and he wanted to finish his snack before he left. She took that as an unsubtle hint that he wanted to be alone and she quickly exited after she said a final goodbye to him._

_Once she had left and the chatter around him resumed, he went back to his meal and finished it quickly; he'd been hoping that he could salvage some of the evening but he highly doubted that was possible after that stupid little bitch had done her best to ruin it._

Leave it to them to ruin everything,_ he thought angrily, shoveling forkful after forkful of pie into his mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing, grimacing at the dry taste it left in his mouth and pushing the plate with the remains of it disgustedly away from him. _Stupid bitch!

_He felt his anger returning and he pushed that down as hard as he could, his body literally vibrating as he longed to release the emotions rising up from the depths biut he couldn't do that. He'd already had one close call and he certainly didn't want to push his luck a second time. After a few minutes, he quickly stood up, slid out of the booth and walked to the till to pay his bill. He greeted the cashier with a winsome smile-he was pretty proud of his ability to do that in a pinch when his temper erupted-and she glowed as she took his bill, a five dollar bill and gave him his change chirping, _"Thanks Mr. Boone and Happy Halloween!"

"Happy Halloween, my dear," _he returned, lifting his hand and giving her a jaunty wave before he turned and walked to the door, grasped the door handle, pulled the door open, stepped through it quickly, disappearing into the night as it slowly shut behind him. _

_His mouth tightened as he walked down the street, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his fingers clenching into fists as he left the diner behind him. His face was drawn and angry and he did his level best to hide it from the people who were passing by when they greeted him._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_October 31st  
Halloween Night  
Aldeane's All Night Diner  
Los Angeles, CA_

_11:00 P.M._

_Leslie stood by the window of the diner, a troubled look on her face. The brightly shining orange lights cast an orangey glow on her skin but she didn't notice them as she stood there, her hands clasped in front of her. Thoughts whirled through her mind at a frenetic pace until her head was fairly spinning._

_She wasn't exactly sure what it was that was troubling her about her earlier encounter with Mr. Boone but something just didn't feel right, somehow. Something was definitely off but she couldn't put her finger on what that was. There was _something _in his eyes that frightened her even though he did his best to hide it; she could see clearly that there was something lurking beneath that facade... something... _evil_..._

_She shuddered, shivering as she felt a cold breeze blow past her; she crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers clasping her upper arms. _I've never seen him act like this before, _she thought, her eyes creased in concern, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she shuffled from one foot to the other, her __fingertips lying lightly on the edge of the booth underneath the window. _I don't know_ why _it's bothering me so much but it_ really_ is. _She shivered again._ It feels like he's showing me a side of him that he's had for years and kept hidden for some reason and the outer face we've seen is just a mask. Curiously, I also feel like I made a narrow escape and that bothers me most of all... Mr. Boone has _never_ shown himself to be violent in all the years I've known him but, when I think of him strangling the napkin like that, it really creeped me out!

_She started when she heard a loud noise, her eyes flickering over to the window, sighing in relief as it turned out to be a group of adults, dressed in various Halloween costumes, pass by, talking and laughing about a hundred different things. She watched them as they walked down the street, their voices becoming fainter until it disappeared altogether as they turned around a corner._

I don't know what it is but I wish I knew why I feel so jumpy tonight...

_She turned toward the window again, lost in her unhappy thoughts. It just didn't make sense...She was so deep in thought that she nearly jumped a foot when Moira cleared her throat, the blonde haired girl stepping quickly to the right in order to avoid Leslie's pinwheeling arms._

"Gah!"_ Leslie cried, jumping back and whirling around, her eyes as wide as saucers while Moira stood quietly slightly off to her right until she caught her breath. _"Don't do_ that_!"

"Do what?" _Moira asked innocently, fluttering her eyelashes at her playfully._

_Leslie glared back, baring her teeth in an angry hiss._

"You know damned well _what_," _she retorted, giving her a dirty look while Moira looked nonplussed which only made her angrier. "_How many times have I told you not to sneak up behind me!"

_Moira gave her a saucy look._

"Countless, I suspect,"_ she quipped nonchalantly at first but quailed when she realized that she was only making the other girl angrier and that she really _wasn't _in the mood for her lighthearted banter at this point in time. "_But," _she continued placatingly a few moments later,_ "that's no excuse for rudeness. I apologize for scaring you, Leslie; I certainly didn't mean to."

_Leslie's angry look faded and Moira breathed a mental sigh of relief. She knew that she had a quick temper and the sooner one was able to diffuse it, the better._

"That's okay,"_ she said, turning to face the other girl, a look of chagrin on her face, _"I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear you come over so I guess that I am to blame for it happening."

_Moira thought it best to let it go without comment. Instead she said,_ "It seems that you have something on your mind since you've been standing here for half an hour, looking out of the window."

_Leslie nodded, her eyes flickering over to look out into the blackness for some time in silence and, just when Moira thought that she could no longer bear the oppressing silence another moment, Leslie spoke._

"Do you know Mr. Boone?"_ she asked, her eyes flickering over to Moira's and locked on and held._

"Well... sure..." _she replied, shrugging her shoulders but feeling very uncomfortable underneath that intense gaze. _"Who doesn't? He's come in here for years."

_Leslie shook her head._ "That's _not _what I mean," _she persisted, biting her lip, her eyes narrowed into little, narrow slits._

"Then what_ do _you mean?"

"I mean, do you really, _really _know him?"

"I still don't get what you're trying to ask, Leslie," _Moira replied, her eyes clouding as she bit her lip. _"What do you mean do you really know him? We _all _do and have dealt with him at one time or another, some more than others."

"No, I mean do we _really_ know him? Do _we_ know who _he_ really is?"

"I should say so." _Moira looked at her and was surprised to see her friend and fellow waitress tense and edgy; that certainly wasn't like her and Moira wondered what it was that had her so upset tonight. _"What's gotten into you? You're as tense as a cocked crossbow and that certainly isn't like you!" _She looked closely at her friend, her face wreathed in concern. _"What's eating you, anyway?"

_Leslie sighed, her arms dropping to her sides, her fists clenched._

"I don't know how to explain it, really,"_ she began, her clenched fingers trembling as she struggled to find the right words, _"it just feels like something's... oh, I don't know- _wrong_ with Mr. Boone and I can't quite put my finger on exactly _why._"

"Wrong? How do you mean?"

"That's just it—I _don't _know _exactly._"_ She shrugged her shoulders helplessly_. "It's-" _she bit her lip again, her eyes narrowing in thought _- "it's like he's wearing a mask or something and the person we've known all these years _isn't _who _we _thought _he _was."

_Moira bit back the urge to laugh for the look on Leslie's face was quite serious; she really _was _upset and something that Mr. Boone had said or done was the cause. She was busy at the time when the incident happened so she asked Leslie to tell her what had gone on which she did in great detail. _

_Once her friend had finished her story, Moira was feeling a little uncomfortable herself and not as sure of herself as she had been. Leslie was right-this _wasn't _like him and she had to wonder, as she looked into her friend's worried face, if there _was_ something to this after all..._

_Both girls stared wide-eyed out of the window at the pitch blackness, the orange lights flickering off and on both thinking the same thing._

_Who was Mr. Boone, really?  
_


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first._  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Phoenix nurses a broken heart, lamenting over the loss of his relationship with Miles coupled with pain and fury over his three year long deception. He makes a fateful decision, one that, he hopes, will quell once and for all what he feels... and still the pain inside once and for all.  
_

_Meanwhile, with all of his hopes in utter ruin, Miles wanders the city for awhile, eventually wandering into an all night diner, wanting to be alone to deal with his pain in silence. Unfortunately, it seems that Fate had other things in store and he sees someone that he really _doesn't_ want to right now because of who it is that she is connected with..._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Chapter 16 at last! Whew! It has been awhile since I last updated-not too, too long, thankfully, but it has been a bit just the same-so I hope that you enjoy this latest chapter! I'm dealing with a lot of feelings in this chapter so I hope that I've written them properly and clearly for both Miles and Phoenix to explain why they're feeling the way they are at the present!

I originally had the chapter much longer-seven pages compared to the five here-but decided to end it at Miles' meeting at Chelsea's since it seemed appropriate and I now have a three page start for chapter 17! :) A nice way to work out, I must say, despite being sick with the damn flu! *Both my husband and myself are sick with it and have been for ten days now. Ugh... wish it would go away!*

Poor Miles and Phoenix, their lives _really_ are a mess right now! The poor boys are at the end of their collective ropes, so to speak, and deal with their pain in different ways: Phoenix explodes and Miles internalizes it. It looks like the end once and for all.

It's also a moment of realization for Miles as he now understands, and clearly shown to him as his hopes and dreams now lay in tattered ruin, just _how_ badly he messed up. He'd thought that it would be a matter of a return and an apology to make things right with Phoenix but now knows that he must pull out _all_ the stops if he entertains _any_ hope of getting Phoenix back which doesn't look at all likely at the present.

I'm looking at Miles at his deepest level, bereft and broken; everyone has a breaking point and he's reached his. He's hit rock bottom and can't go any further downward and he's also had a rather nasty revelation of who he is at the deepest level of his being-neatly thrown in his face although Phoenix didn't know he was doing it at the time since he wasn't aware of his presence on the lawn at the house they once shared together-and he really _doesn't_ like what he sees. What Miles had expected when he came back in chapter 13-and what ultimately happened-are oceans apart and now understands _why_ Phoenix is so angry and doesn't want to see him. He really didn't _quite_ internalize just _what_ he'd done by not telling Phoenix he was alive, regardless of the circumstances, and now he's got a herculean job ahead of him: how to convince Phoenix to give him another chance when it's very, very clear that Phoenix doesn't want him either in his life or anywhere near him right now. [I hope I've written Miles' internal struggle properly and made it clear why he feels the way he does and the reasons sound.]

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :) *I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :) *

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth, Some Strong Language

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_November 21st  
Phoenix Wright's Home  
Master Bedroom  
Los Angeles, CA  
8 P.M._

I looked down at my bandaged hand with stupefied fascination, wincing when I felt a throb of blinding pain race through, a line of tingling agony that went from my wrist to the tips of my fingers. I hissed, gritting my teeth and scrunching my eyes shut, my exposed fingertips twitching for awhile before the pain passed and they eventually stilled.

I sighed in relief as I looked up through bleary, red-rimmed eyes, staring blankly at the wall on the far side of the room. It seemed_ almost_ surreal with the moonlight shining through the window, illuminating the cracked photograph glass that lay in a twisted ruin on the floor, shadows neatly obscuring Miles' face. I sniffed in disdain as I turned away to look at the open door of our once shared bedroom where I sat on our bed, thinking just _how _appropriate_ that _was for someone who had lived in shadows all of his life. And how miserable and unhappy I felt.

_God, that hurts. _I grimaced as another bolt of pain raced through my hand, gritting my teeth until the pain passed, resolving to take my pain medication before I went to bed. _I'm such a fool, banging my fist against the door like I did. I'm surprised that I didn't break my hand instead of having a hairline fracture and scraped knuckles._ I took a deep breath, exhaling shakily, the lump in my throat nearly choking me. _I am _such_ a damned fool..._

I looked around the room for a time before my eyes locked on to the wreckage that lay strewn over the floor; the ruined guilt frame that lay on the other side of the room caught my eye in particular, my heart lurching as I saw it. I couldn't help but feel regret and shame as I saw what I had done to it, mixed in with fury and pain.

I _couldn't_ believe that Miles had betrayed me like that, letting me think for three long and lonely years that he _was _dead when he most certainly was _not_. If it had not been for the confrontation in the cemetery, I would _never_ have known that he was still alive and, even though I knew it was base and unkind of me, there was a part of me that wished he _was_ dead.

Troubled by the direction that my thoughts were taking, my eyes traveled once again to the far side of the room and landing on the picture frame that was in ruins on the floor. It lay in a twisted wreck, the beautifully wrought work of the frame contorted and ruined, shavings of metal littering the floor in a wide perimeter around it. There was a sharp depression in the wall itself where the frame had hit it, bits of white paint flakes lying intermittently among the shavings.

I sighed._ So that's how it ends, is it? _My eyes flickered over the dark spaces in the room, moonlight shining on the shattered remnants that lay scattered on the floor, my eyes being brought back to it._ All those years and what do I have to show for it? _I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the corners of my mouth twitching._ Nothing, that's what. Not a damned thing. It's really sad, if you think about it..._

Now that my anger had cooled somewhat-though the pain remained as razor sharp as it did from the day before-I could, now, at least, see the tragedy of the previous day's events, symbolized _very _neatly by the destruction of the gilt frame that held a picture of Miles and myself.

Moonlight illuminated the twisted wreckage eerily well, the glass that remained in the frame itself-and not scattered all over the floor in varying pieces-was cracked, crazily spidering lines crisscrossing the glass that remained intact, the photo inside creased and torn at the corners. As I stared at it, I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I saw the senseless destruction I'd caused, feeling my heart ache as I stared at it for a very long time in silence.

_The end of an era, so they say..._ I looked down at the floor for a moment, raising my head slowly to gaze once more on the destroyed frame. I looked at it for some time, reaching up with the fingers of my free hand to wipe away the tears that were slowly, but inexorably, trickling down my face. _It's... it's _really_ over between us, isn't it? I don't think we can ever come back from this._

My lips trembled and I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat so large I was surprised that it didn't choke me, my body shaking with suppressed sobs, anger slowly beginning to raise its ugly head once more. _I don't think I can _ever _forgive him for what he did... I wish I'd _never_ seen him..!_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Chelsea's Diner  
Nov. 21st  
Los Angeles, CA  
10 P.M._

Miles sat in silence in the booth in the furthest corner of the diner, a steaming cup of tea sending up clouds of frosty smoke spiraling into the air, his fingers interlocked on his lap, his wet face gleaming in the artificial light that shone in the chandelier above his head.

He wasn't sure exactly _how _he'd ended up here; he'd never been to this part of Los Angeles before that he could remember nor had he ever frequented Chelsea's in all the years he'd lived in L.A_. I_t seemed, to him that his feet simply walked where they wanted to while his mind remained entangled with the heartache that was surging so painfully within him. He'd left the house that he and Phoenix had once shared together-and could still have if he wasn't such a blamed fool-with a heavy heart and simply started walking through the city, both his heart and soul in utter turmoil.

He blinked once when he finally came back to himself and was aware of his surroundings, momentarily confused when he realized he was somewhere he had never been before. He hadn't been certain that he wanted to enter the establishment and hesitated only a moment before he'd reached out to grasp the ornately scrolled door handle and pulled open the door. He quickly stepped inside before the door closed behind him and made his way to the back of the diner, sliding into the first booth he saw and lapsing into a gloomy silence. He just wanted to be left alone so he could deal with his pain, and his sins, in silence but it seemed that this wasn't to be and he cursed the fates roundly at the steady stream of people who kept coming over to greet him.

People he knew, and didn't know, some colleagues, some friends and others strangers that he didn't recognize kept coming up to him and insisting on speaking to him. He'd done his best to at least be frostily polite but they seemed determined to intrude upon his space and he'd at last lost patience, curtly telling the remnants that he wasn't in the mood for company and would they please leave him alone. It worked; they departed quickly, and, in some cases, huffily, until he was alone again.

He'd sat there for some time before he even acknowledged the black garbed waitress when she popped up beside the table; he was momentarily startled when he became aware of her presence and mumbled his order for tea, shaking his head when she asked him if he wanted something to eat. He had no appetite and waited in tense silence until the waitress had brought him his tea, setting it down on the table in front of him. He'd said nothing to her, not that he could recall, although she seemed both puzzled annoyed when she turned on her heel and stalked off, shaking her head.

It was just as well. He simply ached, the shattered remnants of the hopes he'd had for reconciling with Phoenix now lying in a broken heap, damaged beyond repair. He should have known that this was a fool's errand and not come out of the shadows; he knew that now. He'd hoped-oh, how he had hoped!-that he could make things right with Phoenix but he should have known that this would have been impossible.

He'd betrayed him in the worst way possible and all of the reasons he'd had_-excuses_, perhaps, was a better word or, at the very least, much more honest-were thrown back up in his face. He knew that he should have come clean three years earlier but he just couldn't face things, or his feelings, then; he was simply too raw and wounded inside at the time to really face much of anything, let alone the lingering malignant ghosts of his past.

Miles' fingers tightened, his mouth turning down at the corners, unhappy thought after unhappy thought whirling through his mind. He should have tried, he should have reached out to Phoenix and not left him standing there alone, mourning his supposed 'loss' and thinking that he was dead, he should have confided in him and told him what he was going through and how overwhelmed he felt. No wonder he felt so betrayed! How would he have felt had Phoenix done the very same thing to him?

He only waited a moment before the answer flashed through his mind and he winced visibly, his locked fingers trembling: he would feel the exact same way that Phoenix was feeling, worse, perhaps since he had so many bad memories in his past and enough unhappiness to fill a million volumes.

He closed his eyes for a second, tamping down the hurt that he could feel welling up deep inside him. Why should Phoenix have just_ 'forgotten' _what he had done-which he had deeply_, deeply _regretted doing even before things blew up in his face-when he himself would not have had the shoe been on the other foot?_ Why_ would it have been okay for _him_ and not for _Phoenix_?

_Betrayal_. How_ that_ _word _left a bitter taste inside his mouth and how ironic that it should have been his late, unlamented mentor who had taught him everything he needed to know about _that_ particular way of living.

_I'm... a monster... an uncaring, unfeeling monster. Just... like..._ him... He shook his head hard, squeezing his eyes shut. _No, _I'm_ not like _him_; I'm not!_

His thoughts trailed off to a standstill and his fingers unlocked, his left hand lifting slowly from his lap, his eyes still closed. He leaned forward, brushing the white ceramic handle, curling around it and he opened his eyes as he brought it to his lips, taking a small sip of the fragrant brew before he put it down again on its saucer, rattling a little as he did so and making a sour face.

_This is_ definitely _an inferior tasting tea,_ he thought disdainfully, thankful that his unhappy thoughts now had something else they could dwell on instead, ignoring the odd look the waitress gave him as she passed by at that moment_, and __ of so poor a quality. It's certainly something I'm _not_ used to..._

He stopped there, his eyes widening as he realized just what he had been thinking. He'd expected everything to go back to being the same as they were three years earlier; instead, everything had changed: he was _no_ longer a Prosecutor; he _no_ longer had Phoenix as his partner or his lover; he didn't even have the tea services of the bellboy from the Gatewater Hotel and he had nothing and no one to call his own. He truly _was_ adrift and aimless with no strong direction; for the first time, he really _was_ on his own... and he didn't like it.

He supposed that he had become accustomed to Phoenix's wonderfully loving and supportive presence and now that he didn't have it any longer, he noticed that the sunshine in his life was missing and it greatly troubled him. Feeling as he was now, he couldn't for the life of him imagine how he'd managed to stay away as long as he did.

_Denial and mistrust..._ that's _what it was. Denial about how I felt, denial of how my past affected me and even denial about it in the first place, and how I didn't trust Phoenix to stand by me while I worked things out._

He sighed, taking another sip before he put the cup on its saucer and pushed it away from him, making another sour face. _God, this tea is awful! Dishwater would have been a remarkable improvement! _He stopped in surprise before he shook his head, herding his wandering thoughts back to the original topic. _Why should I have been surprised that he reacted the way he did? Truthfully, I_ was_ surprised when I really_ shouldn't _have been; in my arrogance, I thought that_ everything _would all be forgiven when I showed up and now I have no job, no home and no one to come home to... and its_ no_ less than I deserve._

_He squeezed his eyes shut. _God, my life is such a mess... and I have no one but myself to blame.

He sat for some time stewing in self-pity as the din of conversation went on all around him until he heard a loud female voice call out, "Mr. Edgeworth!"

_Bloody hell!_ He winced visibly as Maya Fey's voice carried through the crowded diner and saw her standing inside the doorway, waving enthusiastically as she walked in. _She is the_ last_ person I want to see! _He bit his lip._ Damn it!_

He looked about quickly to see if there was any way that he could escape before she reached him but, with the crowd pressing in on him suffocatingly from all sides, he knew it was impossible and settled back to down to wait for the inevitable. He half expected to see Phoenix tagging along behind her and was both relieved, and hurt, to see that she was on her own.

_I suppose that there's just no way I can get out of this,_ he thought with irritation and sighed deeply, watching as Ms. Fey threaded her way expertly through the crowd toward him, stopping to chat or acknowledge someone with a nod of her head before she moved on. _All I wanted was to be alone. Was that _too_ much to ask?_

His eyes narrowed as Ms. Fey greeted him before she slid into the seat across from him, her eyes warm and friendly, ignoring his rather brusque attempts to get her to leave. He glowered at her as she began to talk, chattering aimlessly about what she'd been doing for the past few months or so, wishing with all of his heart that she would leave so he could deal with his ghosts on his own.

_Apparently so and now I have company whether or not I want it._ He groaned inwardly. _Why me?  
_

The night wore on and, while the throbbing ache in his heart continued, he couldn't help but wondering if Phoenix was all right... and how much he wished he could be with him.

_It's a fool's dream, _he chided himself, sinking into an even deeper, melancholy silence, _and it's all over because of what_ you _did_. _Are you proud of what you did and congratulating yourself over being so devilishly clever that the one man you love more than _anyone_ else in the world _doesn't _want _anything _to do with_ you_ now?_ He cringed at the pitilessly accurate questions but couldn't deny their truth. _How does_ that _make you feel, Miles Edgeworth?_

He didn't trust himself to answer.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first._  
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_Miles' heart is in turmoil and Maya Fey is doing her level best to comfort him after their chance meeting at a diner she regularly frequents. After a call comes in, Maya has the idea to call Phoenix but Miles is against it; he knows how Phoenix feels and really isn't too keen on having that thrown back in his face but she refuses to take "no" for an answer. Will Miles stand his_ _ground or grudgingly allow her to make the call and hoping against hope that Phoenix will find it in his heart to forgive him?_  
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Chapter 17 at last! ::whew!:: It's nice to finally get this chapter finished after having it languish for so long. (Chapter 18 will follow within a day or so after I post this one since I've written enough to split this _really_ long chapter into two separate ones.)

Maya's in her prime here and, despite Miles' thoughts on her being able to read his mind (she can't but _is_ observant to his body language and mannerisms. It helps that she knows him pretty well which makes it easier for her to tell what he's thinking about or feeling and he's also terribly transparent), she _does_ want to help him in any way she can since he _is_ a friend. She knows that both Miles and Phoenix are in turmoil and she wants to whatever she can to ease both of them; she's a good friend even though Miles finds it terribly intrusive at this point. (He'll appreciate it later but, for right now, he's annoyed with her pushing the issue and not letting it go which is what he wants to do because he knows how Phoenix feels after his silent witness in the front yard of their once shared home of his heartrending meltdown in chapter 15.) Sometimes, though, you have to wonder if Maya really _does_ have a deeper insight into Miles' soul than she lets on...

The phone conversation between Maya and Detective Gumshoe is for completeness; it felt rather abrupt and incomplete without it.

Miles being in an alcoholic haze for three years comes from my fic, _In Vino Veritas_.

Hope you enjoy the chapter! :)

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :) *I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :) *

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_10:30 P.M._

Maya winced inwardly though she did her level best not to show it outwardly. She looked down at the barely touched tea that lay mere inches away from him on the table and quickly surmised that he _wasn't_ in a good mood.

_Then again, _she thought rather sardonically, the corners of her mouth twitching, coughing to cover a muffled giggle, _when is he_ ever _in a good mood these days? _She managed to calm herself and felt a little guilty for poking some fun at him, even if it was only in her mind; after all, he looked more than just unhappy—he looked tired and worn, as well.

At this point, she wasn't exactly sure_ why_ Mr. Edgeworth _wasn't_ happy-although she guessed that it probably had something to do with Nick since he, himself, was pretty unhappy these days, too-but she knew him well enough to know when_ not t_o push her luck. She shrugged internally and set back to work on her burger with gusto, enjoying every delicious bite and giving her a chance to mull things over.

They sat in silence for some time, each thinking their own private thoughts. Maya ordered a Coke and a hamburger and practically devoured it once it was put in front of her, digging in enthusiastically.

Miles' eyebrow raised as he watched her eat, wondering why she was so hungry. He surmised that since she was a teenager and teenagers had bottomless pits for stomachs so that would go a long way to explain why she was so hungry; either that, or Phoenix was behind on paying her again. He had to grin at that thought for a second until it occurred to him that it was mean and he immediately chased the thought from his mind.

As he watched her, he couldn't help but marvel how she ate since he barely had any appetite at all these past few days and the mere sight of food had the distressing effect of making him feel sick to his stomach; he supposed that this aversion to any kind of nourishment at all was the result of the enormous amount of stress he was under.

He didn't realize that he was watching her so intently until he realized that she had stopped eating and was looking at him with a puzzled expression. He dropped his eyes, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

She smiled."Don't worry about it, Mr. Edgeworth," _s_he said kindly, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin."I've been busy at Kurain Village off and on for the past few months practicing my Channeling technique and I've _really _worked up an appetite!"

He smiled crookedly as she blushed, her lips curving into a half-smile. "So it would seem."

She grinned as she took another bite, chewing quickly before swallowing.

"So," she began, picking up her napkin and dabbing her lips with it_, _"it's been a long time since we've seen you. What have you been up to when we saw you last?"

"This... and that," he replied vaguely, not wanting to admit to her, or anyone, that he'd spent most of the three years he'd been away in a blurry, alcoholic haze. It wasn't one of his proudest moments and he really rather preferred to forget that the intervening three years had ever happened.

Maya's eyebrow raised at the hesitation in his voice but made no further comment instead returning her attention to the hamburger she was devouring with such relish. As she took a sip of her Coke and another few bites of her burger, he had the sinking feeling that she, somehow, already knew without her having to ask for more details if that odd, too wise look in her eyes was any indication. And there was also something else...

_Perhaps she is merely being kind. She's always been there when she was needed, sometimes even before Nick or I had even asked or even stipulated that there was a problem. Somehow, she often seemed to know... _Miles mulled over this in silence for some time while Maya bit deeply into her burger, chattering amiably in between bites. _There's something about her that I can't quite put my finger on although I guess I really _shouldn't _be surprised; she _is _a spirit medium, after all. _He turned this thought over in his mind. _I suppose that I would be surprised if she _didn't_ know..._

When he was aware of the world again, he could see her looking at him with amusement, her eyes sparkling. It really _was_ disconcerting, to say the least, that she probably _knew_ what he was thinking.

Irritation flashed through him. _Can't a man have his own private thoughts anymore? _he groused mentally, coughing to cover his discomfort. _I feel like I'm under microscopic scrutiny!_ At least she had the grace to look embarrassed, if the light pink rising in her cheeks was any indication and Miles felt a perverse sense of satisfaction, settling back in the booth seat with a grim smile.

Silence reigned between them for some time while Maya ate until she sat back in the booth seat, wiping her lips with her napkin and sighing in contentment. Miles stared at her in amazement, marveling once again at the enormous appetite of the average young adult.

"That was delicious," she said, a wide smile spreading over her face once she had finished while Miles just sat there in silence and placing the napkin on the table beside her plate, "and it really hit the spot, too!"

Miles felt the corners of his mouth twitch but made no comment, the deafening silence beginning to get on his nerves. She said nothing but turned her head sideways and looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she did so, the expression on her face never changing and once again he had that feeling that she was looking deep into his soul. It really _was _a creepy feeling.

He shivered slightly and shrugged impatiently, annoyed with himself for letting his imagination run away with him and with her for being able to do so without thinking about it. He knew that she wasn't doing it intentionally but it was as much of part and parcel of her as his nature, and his intellectual gifts, were a part and parcel of him; he just wished that he _wasn't_ so transparent since it was really making him feel uncomfortable... and vulnerable.

_Is that because I wish to keep my own secrets or because I don't want to admit the truth to myself?_

"Mr. Edgeworth, what is it that's _really_ troubling you?" Maya asked a few moments later, looking directly into his eyes, her voice gentle and soothing.

He started with surprise at her tone and at the question itself. There was _something_ about the way that she had phrased it had touched him in a way that he _didn't _want to acknowledge.

_How much does she really know...? _He found himself feeling fear mingled with annoyance at the implication. He felt... _exposed_... for lack of a better word.

"What do you mean, Ms. Fey?" he asked irritably, shaking his head in an effort to clear it... and to tear himself away from those piercing eyes. "You already_ know_ what's bothering me; it should be painfully obvious."

She smiled slightly. "I know some of it, yes," she replied quietly, "but there's more to it than that... and we both know it." She leaned forward, her hand reaching out to cover his; he yelped with surprise as she did so and tried to snatch his hand back but found he couldn't, nor could he turn away from, that hypnotizing gaze. "I'll ask you again: _what_ is it that's _really_ troubling you?"

_What... why...? _His mind was whirling with confusion, images and pictures flooding his mind, twisting over one another as they flowed into his consciousness, unintelligible words being whispered in numerous voices that reverberated in his mind and he found himself trembling. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life and he _didn't_ like it.

"I'm your friend, Mr. Edgeworth," he heard her saying although it seemed that she was far away, "and I care about you. I _know _that you're unhappy and at loose ends and I want to help you in any way I can. Will you let me?"

He resisted only for a short time before he gave in and, for the next hour, he poured out his heart, feeling some measure of peace for the first time in a _very_ long time. He _wasn't_ alone... and he had a friend who cared. Phoenix might not want anything to do with him but Ms. Fey did and she didn't blame him for what had happened all those years ago, even if he didn't agree with her.

When, at last, he had exhausted himself and lapsed into silence, it was she who spoke first.

"Would you like me to call him to see if he will talk to you?"

Miles shook his head wearily.

"No," he said shortly, his lips thinning into a narrow line, "I don't. He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me and I don't see what's to be gained by calling."

"Maybe it might," she replied gently, her fingers tightening around his for a moment.

"I doubt it," he snapped, his fingers trembling, his mouth tightening, "and I fail to see just how calling him could make any difference knowing _how_ he feels about me right now."

She chewed on her lower lip, her expression thoughtful and he wondered what she was thinking; he couldn't tell from the placid expression on her face though he had the sneaking suspicion that, whatever it was, he _wouldn't _like it.

"That's true," she said at last, her brow furrowing, "but I also know that he loves you and his heart is in as much turmoil as yours is in now."

Despite himself, he felt hope rise within him at her words.

_Could there be some hope for us, after all?_

"Did he tell you that?"

She shook her head, quashing his hope.

"Not in words, no." She chose her words carefully. "I knew that he was hurting, although he did try to hide it or bluster to try and get me to drop the subject." Her expression changed, her mouth turning down. "He's angry and hurt but he still loves you."

"Are you sure?" he asked bitterly as she released his hand and he pulled it back_._

She nodded.

"I'm sure." She smiled wryly. "I_ know _Nick and I _know_ how he thinks. He loves you even though right now he's trying to convince himself he doesn't." She looked sad. "He's hurt and lashing out."

Miles nodded.

"I know," he said quietly, his fingers rubbing his aching eyes gently, "believe me, I know." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to calm his racing heart. "He has every right to be angry and I regret what I did more than I can say." He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I wish I could take all of it back but I can't. I was willing to do whatever it took to prove to him that I really _was_ sorry but he doesn't want to have anything to do with me and I'm afraid that he never will forgive me for what I've done."

"He will." Maya's voice was firm. "I have no doubt that he will."

_I wish I were..._

He wanted to believe her but he really couldn't, not after what he'd witnessed at the house that he had once shared with Phoenix. It haunted him still.

"I wish I could be as certain, but I'm not, and I really don't want to stir things up any more than they are right now." He looked her square in the face, his expression tight. "I don't see that there's anything to be gained by it and it might even make things worse." He lapsed into a broody silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "I don't want him to hate me even more than he already does."

She was saved from having to answer him by the Steel Samurai theme trilling from her cell phone; she opened her handbag and reached inside, pulling it out and flipping it open as she pressed the "talk" button and put it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Maya. This is Detective Gumshoe."

"Oh, hello Detective. How are you?"

Miles grimaced.

_It would _have_ to be Gumshoe..._

"_I'm fine, pal. How are you?"_

"I'm doing all right, thank you, Detective. What can I do for you?"

"_I was wondering if Nick was there. I need to talk to him about the Carstairs case."_

Maya brightened. "Oh? Do you have some new information?"

There was a brief silence and Maya could imagine Gumshoe nodding which was what he was probably doing.

"_Yes. We got back the forensics report from the crime scene earlier today and I wanted to give it to him personally. Do you know how I can get in touch with him?"_

Maya nodded. "I can call him and let him know that you're trying to contact him." She stopped for a moment before asking curiously, "Could you tell me what you've found in case he asks?"

_Clever_, Miles thought with grudging admiration, shifting slightly in his seat to a more comfortable position. _She's really got the touch when she cares to use it._

She was chatting amiably with the good detective and Miles waited in an impatient silence as she talked, wishing that Gumshoe would get to the point. He had no idea what they were talking about since it appeared that the information that Ms. Fey was asking about that Gumshoe wanted to pas son to Phoenix had been given to her already.

Presently, she wrapped up the conversation, said her goodbyes and pressed the "talk" button, closing the phone slowly before putting it back into her handbag. Miles was nearly dancing with impatience by the time she closed it; he didn't want to admit it but he was curious about what she and the good detective had been talking about.

"Well," she said, "that was fortunate."

Miles' eyebrow raised. "Fortunate?" he repeated, his voice heavy with irony. He thought it was a _very_ odd way to express the timing of Gumshoe's call-which, in his opinion, was bad, as usual-and wondered what she meant by that.

She nodded. "Detective Gumshoe's call came at a very good time." She chuckled. "I know that you're still nervous about me calling him on your behalf-and are actively encouraging me _not_ to-" he couldn't deny _that_ - "but now I have an overriding reason to call him that _doesn't_ have _anything_ to do with you."

He bit back a curse. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew that there was nothing he could say to dissuade her; she would do what she thought was best, whether he agreed with her conclusions or not or whether he liked it or not.

_She really does care... and she_'s doing what _she really thinks is best_, he thought with some degree of surprise, biting his lip. _I can't say I agree with her and she didn't witness Phoenix's meltdown like I did._ He sighed, feeling very tired. _I'm fighting a losing battle and I know it. It seems like the more I object, the more she gently presses home that Phoenix still loves me and that he's hurting as much as I am... _He rubbed his eyes._ I'm so damn tired of it all..._

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, Maya watching him expectantly.

"If you _really_ think this is best," he said at last, doubt heavy in his voice, "and it could help, then do it." He looked at her, the pain he was trying so hard to hide plain in his eyes. "I'm so tired of fighting..."

She didn't say a word but nodded as she reached once more into her handbag and brought out her cell phone, flipping it open with a quick, fluid motion and dialing a number with quick, efficient fingers.

_I hope I don't end up regretting this,_ he thought as he watched her place the phone to her ear, _and I truly hope that this doesn't blow up in my face._

He trembled with suppressed emotion, wondering why he had such a bad feeling about all of this, despite his brave assertions. Even had he wanted to, he couldn't stop the events that were already in motion since Ms. Fey had reached Phoenix and was already greeting him. He wished that he had had more courage to assert himself before she had been able to reach him but he couldn't back out now, no matter how much he wanted to.

_The die is cast... and now we'll see which way it falls..._


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: This fic is not connected to "All's Fair In Love And War" so to avoid confusion for those who have read that story first._  
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_Phoenix has come to a decision to make the break with Miles Edgeworth for good but wonders why he feels so lost. He doesn't have time to really linger on that now since he has a report to see, a report that could spell doom for his client...  
_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Chapter 18, as promised! :) This is the end of the bridging chapters that tie up the emotional loose ends from the previous chapters; after this, I'll concentrate on the case pending against Phoenix's client, Richard Carstairs, and tune in with the killer again in another interlude or two-or even three-and explore that for awhile before getting back to the resolution to both the conflict between Phoenix and Miles _and_ the resolution of the case. Quite a bit yet to go before this is over and it will be interesting to see it play out.

The boys sure are in a real pickle, aren't they? It's one heck of a difficult situation for both of them and its not surprising that both of them are having their respective troubles in dealing with it: Miles is at loose ends and doesn't know what to do and Phoenix isn't sleeping well and feels both angry and depressed. It is quite a depressing, not to mention distressing, situation that they find themselves in and they don't really know what to do about it just yet. I do hope that I have managed to get their respective emotional states across clearly, concisely and with clarity. They'll work through it eventually. :)

Hope you enjoy the chapter! :)

**Thanks** to my readers and all those who have favourited, reviewed, story alerted, favourite author or author alerted me. I appreciate it more than I can say! :)

**Special thanks** to my beloved husband, DezoPenguin, for all his help, support, advice, nagging (when necessary) and encouragement! I appreciate it more than I can say! Love you!

Any and all comments will be appreciated and are enthusiastically welcomed! :) *I'll probably change some things at some point; always room for improvement! :) *

Rated NC-17, male/male relationships, Phoenix & Edgeworth  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_November 21st  
Phoenix Wright's Home  
Master Bedroom  
11:55 P.M._

I don't know how long I sat there in the dark before I heard the "Steel Samurai" ringtone of my cellphone trilling from the night-table beside the bed. After it became apparent that whoever the caller was wouldn't be hanging up anytime soon, I turned my head to look at it with bleary eyes. With a heavy sigh, I leaned over with agonizing slowness, my fingers scrabbling a few times on its smooth surface before I finally made contact with it, wrapping them firmly around the slim iPhone. I tapped the "on" button before lifting the phone to my ear.

"What?" I said wearily, too tired and heartsore to care about being polite.

Maya's exuberant voice practically exploded from the phone and I winced visibly as I held the phone away from my ear until my erstwhile assistant's voice reached a tolerable decibel level, rolling my eyes to look up at the ceiling. I really _wasn't_ in the mood for conversation and I made that pretty clear once I started talking.

"Maya," I said tiredly, interrupting her stream of excited babble while I rubbed my eyes with the fingers of my free hand, "what do you want? I'm really _not _in the mood to talk to anyone right now so, if you _must _disturb me, I'd appreciate it if you'd get to the point _sooner _rather than _later._"

There was complete silence on the other end for a few minutes and I find myself wishing that she _had_ hung up so I could go back to my solitary, nocturnal thoughts. Unfortunately for me, she _hadn't _and was decidedly put out with me for my rude welcome; to be honest, I didn't really care at the moment but let her tirade pass in silence which expressed, even louder than words, how depressed I _really_ felt.

A few minutes more and I was ready to hang up if she didn't get to the point. I think I may have conveyed that pretty clearly-I really did have to remember that she was a spirit medium and she was likely to be tuned in to someone's feelings even if she _wasn't_ doing a reading-since she hurriedly got the point of the reason for this phone call.

_Finally._

"Nick," she began slowly and patiently and I wondered why she was choosing her words so carefully; I could hear muffled noise in the background and it was pretty obvious to me that she was out somewhere and not at home, "the reason I called was to tell you that Detective Gumshoe just called a few moments ago."

I raised an eyebrow, my mouth twisting into a grimace. I had an idea of_ where _this might be leading-and the fact that I could hear Miles' muffled voice among the noise infuriated me and I was determined to put a stop to it. I couldn't believe that he would sink so low!

_I'm not going to let that miserable bastard use you to get to me. Not _this _time, Miles...!_

"And?" I replied tersely in the silence that followed. I could all but see her bite her lip as my anger began to slowly seep through my words. "Does it have _anything_ to do with the Carstairs case, Maya?" I paused for a moment. "Or is it something _else-" _with emphasis on the word_ "else"- "_ entirely which is why you're hesitating to tell me?"

I heard her pause and take a deep breath on the other line. "Nick, it's about b-"

_I knew it..._

In that split second of hesitation, I knew _exactly _what it was that she was going to say and I exploded in rage. I don't remember how long it went on but I clearly remember telling her to "N_ever mention that man's name to me again!_"-among other things-and practically slammed the phone in her ear as I hung up. I knew that I would regret this later on but, at the moment, I really didn't care.

A red mist danced before my eyes, coating everything in a deep crimson color as I sat on the bed I had once shared with Miles. I was breathing heavily, my chest hitching painfully, my body shaking uncontrollably; I could feel a sort of itchy tension building up inside of me beside the rage. Deciding to hell with convention, I closed my eyes, threw my head back and let out a loud, primal scream, one torn from deep within me.

My hands curled into fists, the nails digging into my palms as I let out another scream, all the pain, anger and anguish I felt deep inside at last finding expression. It made me very glad that Pess was staying with another mutual friend of Miles and myself for awhile until I could get myself together since this might have frightened him.

Hot, scalding tears poured down my face in a steady stream and I let them, relief following as I let go of all the pain and anguish that I had bottled up inside of me for so long. I cried until my nose felt swollen to the size of an apple and I had no tears left to shed. I couldn't really understand where they were all coming from; he'd betrayed me in the worst possible way, after all, and I doubted that I could ever forgive him for it or even _wanted _to forgive him.

_Where is all of this coming from?_ I wondered as I felt two tears start to trickle slowly down my face, my lips twitching at the corners, my anger building as the minutes passed. _Why am I even crying for him after what he's done?_

I looked out the window, my lips tightening in a thin, angry line. _He betrayed me in the worst possible way:_ he_ lied to me; _he_ used me; _he_ let _me _think he was dead when he very obviously wasn't. He _didn't_ even bother to try to contact me to let me know that he was all right but let me go on thinking that he was dead! And _now_ he comes out after three years from God-knows-where for God-knows-what to tell me that he loves me and wants me back! _

I closed my eyes for a moment, tamping down savagely on the almost overwhelming anger that I could feel welling up deep inside me, counting to ten repeatedly until I finally got my emotions under some kind of conscious control._ What does he think I am: a fool?! That seems pretty damned obvious to me since he thinks that, after showing back up in some overly dramatic fashion, I would just forget about the intervening three years, just forget about what he did and just forget the fact that he lied to me and led me to believe he was dead. _I felt the tips of my fingers twitch._ I'll _never_ forgive him for that!_

It appeared that I had made up my mind at last to move on and, at this moment, it was joy wracked with-surprisingly, given how angry I felt-sorrow. I looked out the window once more at the pitch darkness, my eyes narrowed, my mouth thinning into a thin slash, my hands knotting into fists. _I'll _never_ cry for that man again...!_

When this thought crossed my mind, I wondered why it _didn't _feel as honest as it sounded and why that deep rooted pain I felt in my heart that never truly went away had started to hurt once again. No matter, I decided, sliding over to the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over the edge, my feet touching the carpeted floor, I was going to move on with my life and forgetting about him sounded like the perfect way to start.

Still, I couldn't miss that dull ache I felt deep inside and wondered why. After what Miles had done, he deserved to be confined to the past. Shaking my head impatiently, I ignored the ache as I strode to the bathroom, quickly undressed and stepped into the shower, my fingers resting lightly on the sliding door.

_Goodbye Miles Edgeworth... and good riddance! _With a grim smile, I slammed the door shut behind me and quickly turned on the taps, running the water for a few moments before I activated the shower and stood under the warm stream, closing my eyes as I felt the water cascading over me. I took a few deep breaths, feeling both the anger and despair slowly melting away. _From now on, I'll go my own way and you can crawl back into whatever cesspool it was that you climbed out of. You're dead to me._

Even as this thought went through my mind as I was reaching for the bar of soap in the soap dish and, later on when I was going to bed, one question had imposed itself painfully clear in my mind: W_hy _did I feel like I had lost part of my soul?

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Maya Fey's Apartment  
November 22nd  
Los Angeles, CA  
1:30 A.M._

Miles sat on the bed in the spare bedroom in Maya Fey's apartment in his silk magenta pajamas, looking out the window with a sinking heart, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. While it was kind of her to offer to put him up for awhile until he got back on his feet, his aristocratic inner self recoiled with horror at the circumstances he now found himself in.

_A man has his pride, after all..._

He scrubbed at his eyes impatiently. He didn't like to accept _anyone's _charity-or help, if it came to that-and, for a proud man like himself, it nettled him deeply, and much more than he wanted to admit. He wondered if the real reason she was letting him stay here was that she felt bad over the complete disaster that had been the phone call to Phoenix.

_I knew that I shouldn't have allowed her to make that call_, he thought, pain knifing through his heart, swallowing hard over the growing lump in his throat. _I told her that he'd react that way and that I was the last person on the planet that he wanted to talk to or have anything to do with. _

He stood quickly, walking over to the window and looked out into the pitch black night, his melancholy thoughts tumbling over one another in his mind, his fingers resting lightly on the windowsill. _I wish that she hadn't made that call. I wish that I made more of an effort to stop her from doing so although I suppose that it wouldn't have made much difference; I know what she's like when she's got the bit in her teeth and runs with it. _His lips twitched in momentary amusement. _She's so much like _… him... _that you would think that they were related by blood..._

He lowered his head, his eyes fluttering shut and sighed, one mingled with both anger and regret. Anger at himself for being such a bloody fool and trying to run away from his past in the first place which had lead to his betrayal of both Phoenix and everything that he had once believed in; regret because he _was _sincerely sorry that he had hurt him so badly and he was prepared to do whatever it took to make things right but now it was too late; Phoenix wanted nothing to do with him and had made his feelings crystal clear on the subject.

He felt his fingers twitch._ And I'll have to live with that regret for the rest of my life... a bloody life sentence with _no_ possibility of release, imprisoned in a hell of my own making. _How ironic that he should have phrased how he felt into those terms. _Once an attorney, always an attorney, I guess. Some things never change..._

He opened his eyes, sighed once again and turned away from the window; he was feeling very depressed and the direction that his thoughts were traveling were only making him feel worse. He didn't know_ what_ he was going to do although he knew that Ms. Fey would host him for as long as he needed although he did hope that he would be able to get his own place sooner, rather than later. He didn't want to inconvenience her any more than he already had.

_At least I have one friend,_ he thought as he slowly walked back to the twin bed and sat down, his hands resting lightly on his knees, _so that's something. _He looked out of the window again. _I just don't know what I'm going to do... _He squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain and melancholy swept over him._ What can I do? Where do I go from here?_

No answer was forthcoming from the night.

_Not that I really expected one..._

He sat there for some time before he slowly got to his feet, pulled back the covers and crawled into bed, resting his head on the pillow and pulling the comforter up to his chin. He lay there for some time before he reached out and turned off the lamp next to the bed, plunging the room into darkness.

_Like my own soul..._

He closed his eyes and lay there for some time before sleep finally claimed him and he accepted its embrace, falling into a restless sleep, filled with uneasy dreams.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Nov. 22nd  
Phoenix Wright Residence  
Master Bedroom  
6:45 A.M._

The insistent ringing of the cell phone woke me from a restless sleep and I groaned as I rolled over, pulling the pillow over my head as I did so, trying to block out the irritating noise.

I hadn't slept at all well, tossing and turning throughout the night until sometime near dawn when I was _finally _able to fall asleep.

_Again?! I should turn the damned thing off when I'm not using it..._

I ignored it for as long as I could and finally gave up when it was quite clear that whoever was on the other end, they weren't going to hang up and I might as well answer it.

_Damn Maya_, I thought uncharitably as I pushed the pillow off of my face, _she knows better than to call so early in the morning! _

I resolved to give my erstwhile assistant a good piece of my mind as I sat up and grabbed the phone, pressing the "talk" button savagely and put the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?" I barked angrily before the person on the other end had a chance to say a word. "You know _damned_ well _not_ to call me this early, Maya! I had a lousy night's sleep and I'm really _not_ in a terrifically good mood at the present!"

I could hear embarrassed spluttering on the other end and soldiered on, my temper fully in control. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times don't call-"

"_Hey, I'm sorry to wake you so early, pal,_" I heard Gumshoe's apologetic voice say on the other end and I winced in embarrassment at my temper getting the better of me, _"but I asked Maya to call you yesterday to let you know that the forensics team finished their report and I wanted to give it to you in person."_

"Wha-?" I said stupidly, my brain whirling. I pressed my hand against my forehead. What did he just say? "Who...?"

"_This is Detective Gumshoe,"_ I heard the person on the other end say, _"and I was calling you to..."_

"Give me a moment, please, Detective," I said quickly, breaking into the conversation and doing my level best not to yawn in his ear, "I'm still not_ quite _awake as of yet... and I'm having a bit of trouble following the conversation."

_I'm really not at my best this morning. _I brought my free hand to eye level, rubbing the last cobwebs of sleep from them with my fingers._ I must sound like a complete idiot._

Gumshoe made soothing noises._ "Hey, are you okay, pal?" _he asked, concern palpable in is voice.

I shook my head to clear it and wiped cobwebs of sleep out of my eyes. "I'm all right, Detective," I replied, cursing myself inwardly for being such a crab, "I was still asleep when you called and I thought that you were Maya."

"_Ah. Well, if you're too tired to talk right now, I can call back later."_

"That's all right; I'm awake now-" _mostly_ - "so you might as well tell me what it is you called about." I was silent for a moment before something else occurred to me. "Did you say that you had called Maya yesterday and told her to call me?"

"_Yes, I did. Did she manage to find you yesterday?"_

I cursed myself again. "She did...but I'm embarrassed to admit that I was rather rude to her and cut her off before she had a chance to tell me what she had called about." That was mostly the truth; not all of it but mostly. I really _didn't_ care to discuss my personal life with anyone, even Gumshoe whom I considered a friend. There was just some things, I found, that were a little_ too _personal to discuss with anyone save the person in question. "What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

_I wonder if I'm the only one who feels this way? I suppose some people might think I'm a bit of a stick in the mud because there are some things I don't feel are appropriate to share with the general public... _I sighed. _I wonder if there's something wrong with me..._

I forced my wandering thoughts back to what Gumshoe was saying.

"_... the forensics team finished their report earlier yesterday and I wanted to give it to you in person. I was trying to reach you at your office but couldn't so I called Maya to see if she knew where you were. I hadn't heard from her so I thought that I would try to reach you at home and..."_

I cut him off. "I know and I'm sorry." I took a deep breath. "I didn't sleep well last night and I'm really _not_ feeling up to talking to anyone this early-" I glanced at my digital alarm clock on the table beside the bed and groaned inwardly when I saw what time it was - "so, if its all right with you, how about you come over to my office in say an hour or so and give it to me then?"

_I'm running out of energy right about now and I don't think it would be good form to fall asleep when someone's talking to me. _I stifled a yawn. _Particularly when it's something _very _important pertaining to the case I'm currently working on. My client's life depends on it._

"_Well..." _Gumshoe's voice sounded uncertain and he was silent for a few moments, thinking it over. I waited for a few moments before he came back onto the line. "_Okay, that will be fine. I'll come by later on this morning, say eight o'clock or so?"_

"That will be fine, Detective." I yawned. "I'll see you then."

"_See you then. You try to get some sleep, okay, pal?"_

"I'll do my best," I remarked sleepily, pressing the "talk" button and sat staring at the phone in my hand when it fell into my lap in silence for a few minutes.

It had been an interesting morning thus far: a fight with Maya yesterday that I now realized, after talking to Detective Gumshoe, that I was in the wrong and owed her an apology for snapping at her like I had; the forensics team had completed their report and that the life of my client hung in the balance based on what was written in it; I had a lousy sleep and I felt like I was about ready to drop when I hadn't even gotten up for the day yet and Detective Gumshoe had woken me out of an uneasy sleep to ask me if my assistant had managed to contact me to tell me about the report that I would have known about yesterday if I hadn't been such a complete boor.

_What a day... and it hasn't even started yet._

I groaned as I slid sideways onto the bed, landing on my right side, the hand that still held my cell phone trapped somewhat awkwardly underneath me and I didn't have the energy to move.

_Lovely. _I swallowed hard, my eyes fluttering shut despite my best efforts to keep them open. _I wonder what _other _unpleasant surprises the day has in store for me today..._

As it turned out, I wouldn't have long to wait to find out.


End file.
